Homecoming
by pixietwisk
Summary: Post-series/partially post-movie. Ed returns to Resemboul and has to reconcile his relationships with Al & Winry and figure out what to do with his career. Edxwin Final chapters up.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Spring rains in Resembool could quickly transform the quaint, unpaved streets into a sticky, miserable mire. In the rural outskirts of the town, neighbors could easily be as far as a mile apart. Therefore, it was no surprise that there was no one to notice or help the small blond boy dragging the body of a young man through the muddy rut that passed for a country road on drier days.

It was clear from his increasingly frequent stops and bent posture that the boy in red was near collapse. He had his arms hooked under the armpits of the older boy. The muddy trail behind the body had already become a little stream leading back to an empty, scorched patch of land. There was vast relief on the boy's face at the welcome sight of the closest house.

At the doorstep, Alphonse gently lowered his beloved older brother to the ground. He rested his forehead against the doorframe before weakly pounding on the door.

The door snapped open so unexpectedly that Alphonse nearly fell in face-first. A testy blond in a mechanic's jumpsuit appeared.

"Who the hell - " she gasped and fell to her knees in the open doorway, mouth agape. "It can't be," she whispered. Heedless of the rain, she crawled out onto the doorstep next to the prone figure. She put her head to his chest and heard the faint, miraculous beating of his heart. Finally seeming to notice Alphonse, she leapt up and embraced him.

"I can't believe it! How . . . "

Alphonse shook off her question, face lined with exhaustion. His eyes held a strange glitter that Winry had never seen before.

"Just help me get him in. He might die of pneumonia if he stays out here."

Together, they managed to heave Edward into the house. They divested him of his ruined clothing in the entry way and left the muddy pile near the door. They were both winded and sweaty after pulling him up the stairs and wrangling his dead weight into the bed he had used so often over the years. Edward had finally gained some height and filled out in the shoulders. With the addition of metal appendages, he had grown shockingly heavy.

Gathering her breath, Winry noticed that a sizable puddle was beginning to collect underneath Al. He startled at the feel of Winry's hand on his shoulder.

"You should go change," she whispered. "I'll watch over him for a few minutes."

Al responded slowly, as if pulling himself from a dream. He nodded, then headed for the door. He glanced back at his brother.

"I got him back."

Winry only nodded as he walked out of the room. The hard, triumphant expression on his face flooded Winry with memories of Edward. It was rare for Alphonse to look like that, with his gentle nature. She wondered darkly how he had managed to find Edward and feared to learn. Edward had often worn that expression at that age, and it had worried her no less.

Her stomach clenched as she hungrily took in Edward's silent figure. After four years of despairing uncertainty, it was almost like looking at a stranger. Winry bent over the bed, lightly brushing her fingertips over the familiar stubborn contour of his jawline. She ached for him to open his eyes, to come back to life and be more than this semi-apparition. At the sound of Alphonse's light tread in the hallway, she jerked away guiltily.

Fatigue was writ in Al's every movement as he shuffled back into the room. He was wearing some clothes he had left behind from last summer. The pants were already too short. Winry puzzled at him.

"Where are your things?"

He grimaced.

"Central."

"But how - "

He cut her off with a curt gesture. Winry wasn't sure whether to be offended or concerned.

"I can't talk about it right now."

Al strode over to the straight-backed desk chair and dragged it over beside the bed. He plopped down in it and moodily contemplated Edward's face.

"Do I need to call a doctor? Is he going to be okay?"

Alphonse frowned, but didn't look up.

"I think it's the shock. Give it a little time," he sighed. Finally tearing his eyes from his brother, he gave her the ghost of his usual cheerful smile. "Besides, Ed hates doctors. Being helpless makes him feel undignified. He'll be okay. He has to."

Winry nodded again and headed back down to her workshop, ignoring the nagging panic that Edward might not wake up at all.

When she peeked in on her way to bed, she found Alphonse sprawled awkwardly in the chair, fast asleep. Sighing, she brought in a rickety old cot and made up a bed for him. Gently placing his limp arm over her shoulder, she managed to guide him, sleepwalking, into the cozy little nest. A latent maternal instinct made her tuck the blankets more closely around him before she turned to look at Edward.

Ed's face looked soft and contented in a way she had never seen. His features were uncharacteristically free of tension, as though whatever demon had been haunting him all his life was finally vanquished. She caught his eyes flickering through his dreams beneath the closed lids. The sight filled her with hope. As far as she knew, coma patients didn't dream.

"I've watched over him for you, Ed, and I'll watch over you too," she whispered. It seemed that the barest hint of a grin curved his lips, as if he had heard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The next morning, the Alphonse she knew had returned to replace the hard-eyed, enigmatic youth of the night before. Small, blond, calm, and capable, he sat by his brother's bedside, devouring a stack of book as if Ed's continued unconscious state didn't bother him at all. His nonchalance was only betrayed by his instant alertness any time Ed so much as shifted in his sleep.

Over the next twenty-four hours, Winry looked in frequently on the pretense of checking in on Al; and several times secretly in the night when she awoke gasping from nightmares that Ed had never returned and never would. Even though she knew he was there, she half-expected each time to find an empty room, musty with disuse.

Edward woke reluctantly from dreams in which he wandered as an invisible watcher through scenes of his early childhood. He and Al capered in the grass, chasing crickets. Winry stomped her foot and demanded entry to their secret hideout. All three of them learned to skip stones on the bank of the river. His longing for the home he had always denied had stealthily become an endless dull ache in the center of his chest, especially after such vivid dreams.

He frowned as his eyes came into focus. This was not the ceiling of his small apartment room in Germany. It was a vaguely familiar ceiling and there was a certain scent in the air, an odd commingling of beeswax furniture polish and burnt metal. His breath hitched. Was he still wrapped up in the arms of his dream, waking to his room in Winry's house? Could anyone in Germany possibly have a replica of it? He sat up abruptly, looking around. The sight that met him caused him to clench the sheets in his fists.

Not two feet away was surely a wisp of imagination. His little brother gazed at him him with dewy eyes, certainly not ten years older than he had been the day they botched the transmutation. He was too young and his hair was too long for him to be real.

"Al?" he whispered, afraid to disturb the air and cause the vision to dissolve into ribbons of mist.

Alphonse beamed, then leapt forward to embrace his brother. Edward hesitated a moment, then clutched Alphonse to himself fiercely. Al felt warm and real in a way Edward barely remembered.

"Brother, you're back," Alphonse breathed. Edward felt tears welling up. All the years with a suit of cold armor and all the years after with nothing but a desperate hope, heavy as a stone in his chest, and, finally, his little brother was back with him again, safe and whole. Ed pulled back a bit, still holding onto Al's upper arms, to look at him.

"You're really here," was all he could seems to sputter out.

Al grinned. "You brought me here, just like you said you would. " His face fell a bit, the grin sliding halfway off his mouth. "But it wasn't easy getting you back." Alphonse looked down guiltily. "I think your arm and leg are gone forever."

Ed reeled. "So I am back home, in Amestris? In Winry's house?"

Al nodded.

"How did you do it? How did you find me there? It must have been that we had to try together, from both sides . . . "

Ed's curiosity blazed. He had been four years without the ability to perform alchemic transmutations, to his increasing frustration, and could not wait to return to it. Al's light, happy face grew shuttered. His mouth thinned to a hard line. Ed suddenly caught a glimpse of what everyone had found so unnerving about himself at fourteen years old. That expression did not belong on a child. _What have I done to him_, Ed thought, welling with regret.

"It was Wrath. He helped me. He trapped Gluttony and gave both their lives and the stones within them in trade for me to reach through the Gate," Al intoned softly with a haunted look. "There's more power in a life given freely. There was a creature there. . . . "

Al trailed off and shuddered. A creeping sensation seized Edward. He fought not to brush his hand across the back of his neck, as if fending off some large, predatory insect.

"It told me that the lives offered would allow me to pull you through, but they weren't enough to make you whole. I could take you with a metal arm and leg or not at all," he finished, dropping his head into his hands. "I'm so sorry, brother."

Ed patted Al's shoulder.

"If that was the only price to pay, then we got off light." Edward sighed. "Besides, I'm used to these gizmos anyway."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew they were true. Figuring out how to create automail in the other world had been extremely difficult, but back in Amestris where it was common, with Winry to care for it, he didn't feel it was much of a hardship. After his lost years, he would rather be alive with mechanical parts than dare the Gate again. The brash belief in his own immortality had fallen off him somewhere in the process of becoming an adult. He knew he was lucky to be alive at all.

Al took a deep breath and looked like he was screwing himself up for something. Just as he was about to open his mouth, there was an enormous crash from downstairs, followed by a thunderous tread right up to the door. Al leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. A sly smirk converted him back to the jovial little brother Edward remembered.

Winry had been absorbed in a tricky piece of machinery all morning. She had expected Al to call out to her as soon as Ed awoke. She had just completed a small section and was considering going upstairs again when she heard the soft mutter of male voices. Winry flung herself off her stool, scattering parts. She ran breathlessly up to the room and burst through the door, equal parts furious and relieved.

Edward felt a jolt go through him at the sight of her that left goosebumps on his skin. Winry was no longer a gawky, half-grown girl. Her old jumpsuit was pulled halfway down, the sleeves tied carelessly around her waist, exposing a black tube-top and an enticing expanse of pale skin smeared here and there with grease. Her hair was tied back with a kerchief, but a few untidy strands floated around her face. There was a smudge of grease on the side of her nose. She made the blood pound in his ears.

In an effort to cover his sudden, discomforting awareness of her, he leaned back and adopted his most blase tone.

"Gee, Winry, is it just you, or did the whole invading army come up the stairs?"

Her face contorted with fury. There was nearly visible steam rising from her. Edward felt instantly refreshed as his adrenaline level began to climb. Just to piss her off, he added, "I'm starving. Have anything to eat?"

"What in the hell is wrong with you? You've been missing for four years! You've been unconscious for almost two days! You come back from the dead, I take you into my home, and that's the first thing you say to me? I've been worried sick, you bastard!"

Winry hurled the wrench she was still clutching directly at this head. He barely dodged the heavy missile and exploded out of bed. Their mutual fury drew them together like a magnetic force. Within a second, they were nose to nose in the center of the room.

"So you try to bash my brains in? Real nice welcome!"

"You couldn't even give me a Hello'! No 'nice to see you.' No 'thanks for hauling me upstairs when I was passed out and taking care of me.' Nothing! You have to be a complete ass! Do you have any idea what I've been through?"

"What you've been through? I - "

Winry took a breath to cut him off and found it was a sob instead. At the sound, Ed felt all the anger drain out of him. Suddenly weeping, she flung herself at him and bawled into his neck. He put his left arm gently around her and patted her hair nervously with his metal hand.

"I m-m-missed you so m-m-much," she wailed.

He tightened his hold on her slightly, his stomach flipping over at the feel of her pressed against his bare skin. It dawned on him that he was only clad in his underwear and that Al was still smirking behind him. He pulled away from her with more reluctance than he cared to admit. She wiped at her eyes and sniffed.

"I'm sorry . . . It's just . . . it's been so long . . ."

She looked up to find his face reddening as he cast about the room for some clothes. She colored as well, uncomfortably aware he wasn't dressed until her eyes focused on his right arm. She hadn't noticed it the night Al had arrived with him.

Ed noted her new focus and skirted behind Alphonse.

"What is that?" she asked dangerously, jabbing her finger at his arm.

"Winry, I'm not even dressed. Can't you go downstairs for a few minutes? We can talk about this rationally."

"What is that?"

"Well, the thing is, umm . . ."

Her anger relit, turning the ocean blue of her eyes stormy.

" That is not the beautiful auotmail I built for you. That is a crude mockery of automail. That is a disgrace to my reputation. Why would you be using that disaster?" she growled, advancing on him like a stalking lioness.

Ed snarled with offense.

"It's not a disaster! Actually it works pretty damn well! They don't have automail on the other side of the Gate and I had to do my best!"

"Oh, it's a disaster, all right. Let me see that."

They danced around Al's chair, Winry intent on getting a closer look, Ed just as intent on keeping her at bay. He had been proud of what he had managed to put together until Winry's censure reminded him how feeble his efforts were compared to what she had been able to craft at just twelve years old. Still, he didn't need her rubbing it in his face. Eyes locked on Winry, he missed Al sticking out a foot to trip him. He went sprawling backward onto the bed.

"Aha!" Winry cried, taking the opportunity to pin him squirming beneath her as she examined the arm, tsking the entire time.

"Dammit, Alphonse!"

He managed to flip her over while she was distracted with some detail in the wrist joint. He grinned down his triumph at her. That feral smile made go all gooey inside. It must have shown in her face because he quickly jumped off her and raked a hand through his hair. Winry stood up and harrumphed, trying to cover her secret thrill.

"I'll have to start on completely new automail immediately. Everyone knows I'm your engineer and I can't have you go around looking like that. I'll be right back to measure you."

She stalked out of the room, nose high.

Ed whirled on his brother, who was trying unsuccessfully to stifle his giggling.

"What was that? I thought you were supposed to be on my side!" Ed spit at Alphonse.

"She just wanted to get a good look, brother."

Ed sat down on the bed and answered with a huff, "I was going to ask her to fix me up, eventually. You didn't have to help her jump me."

Al laughed and threw up his hands,

"Okay, okay. Sorry," he said, though he didn't look remotely sorry to his glaring brother.

"Hand me those pants."

Alphonse arched an eyebrow at Ed.

"Isn't she coming back to measure your leg?" he asked, handing over the garment.

"She can do it with my pants on," Ed grumbled. He didn't want to admit to feeling embarrassed that he wasn't quite as oblivious to her as he used to be. They could hear her clanging around and cursing downstairs. Ed sighed.

"She's exactly the same, isn't she?"

Al squirmed a little in discomfort, causing Ed to frown slightly.

"I guess. She's not usually this mad though, you just push her buttons." Alphonse paused before continuing, "She's really looked out for me, brother. Granny Pinako came down with a really bad fever a couple of years ago and . . . well . . . she didn't make it. Winry's been on her own since then."

Edward started. Al was only a year younger than Edward. He shouldn't have needed much looking after. There was no doubt, however, that Alphonse appeared to be much younger than nineteen. Ed's frown deepened as Al's expression turned serious.

"I think she's been really lonely."

Edward was about to breach the subject of the strange age discrepancy when Winry stomped back into the room. Al stood up to flee.

"I'm going outside - let you measure in peace, Winry."

Ed sat hunched over on the bed, scowling mutinously.

"I didn't do that bad a job, you know. I'm not exactly a mechanic."

Winry's facade softened. "It's okay. Maybe I'll understand better after you tell me about it. Until then, I'd better start from scratch."

Ed glowered, but stuck out his left arm to her. Winry felt a shiver snake down her spine. Edward had always been in peak physical shape, but in the intervening years he had become a man who eclipsed all of her adolescent longings. With tremendous effort, she pulled the best of her professional demeanor from the depths of her being, ignoring the faint tingling of her fingertips as she laid them on his skin. She ran the tape over various contours of his arm and chest, the new arm beginning to take shape in her mind. Winry prodded the edges of the old wound with gently efficiency, then ran her hands over his arm from shoulder to fingertips several times, memorizing the shape and proportion for later sculpting. Human beings were creatures that often defied mathematical perfection. They were always a little longer, shorter, wider, or thinner than would be strictly correct, but Pinako had taught her that those unique traits had to be respected in order to make a person feel whole in artificial limbs. Eyes half-closed, Winry was considering how Ed's fingers were a little short for his palms, but also very flexible, when she happened to glance up at his face. There was an oddly tender cast about his golden eyes that held her frozen longer than she would have liked. She flushed and stood up, burying her face in her notepad as she made a flurry of notes. Ed was still looking at her, as if sizing her up.

"What!" she barked, feeling unwontedly defensive. Edward grinned.

"Nothing. It's just . . . you put a lot of effort into what you do. Must be why you're the best."

She colored even hotter at the compliment. "Thanks," she grumbled, then cleared her throat. "Okay, arm's measured. Take off the pants."

Now Edward flushed. "Umm . . . couldn't you just measure with the pants on?"

Winry frowned, the fine hairs on the back of her neck rising with irritation.

"Do you want your automail to be mismatched? It has to match your other leg exactly. I can't take the chance that the seams of your clothes are creating optical or sensory illusions. If I'm off by even a centimeter, your balance and center of gravity will be affected. We're talking about an exact science here, Ed. You don't guess the exact chemical make-up of something you're transmuting do you? I can't just fix it by clapping my hands, you know. There's actual work involved."

Ed's golden glare deepened. He looked ready to explode. Winry's heartbeat escalated.

"It's not that easy," he spat, "There's a lot of complicated calculation and if it's even a little bit off-" he stopped abruptly. Winry allowed a smug expression to settle on her face. He sighed. "Fine. You win."

She looked blindly at her notepad while he unbuttoned and shucked off his trousers, pretending to be absorbed in her calculations to avoid gaping at him. By the time she dared to look, he was lying full length on the bed, fuming at the ceiling. After extensive measuring in a much more intimate area, she tried to ease the suffocating tension.

"You've definitely grown, Ed. It looks like you're finally a few inches taller than me," she grinned up at him, enjoying the self-satisfied smirk he gave her. She slapped his thigh with unnecessary force as she got up. "Don't get too cocky. A few inches taller than me is still short."

That wiped the grin off his face and got him huffing back into his clothes. Winry had tucked away her measuring tape and was sauntering out of the room when she felt his metal hand on her shoulder.

"Winry, I . . . I'm sorry about Aunty Pinako. Al just told me. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you."

Whatever Ed had been expecting, it wasn't the hard-edged resignation that stole into her features. He found he had rather been anticipating her melting in his arms for the second time that morning. A bitter smile twisted her mouth.

"She never gave up on you, you know. When I thought you must be dead, she just said, 'Not that brat. He's too stubborn to die.' Just before she died, I begged her to get better. I told her I couldn't do this by myself. Do you know what she said?"

Ed shook his head, not sure he liked the direction of the conversation.

"She said, 'You've grown up tough, girl. You'll be all right. Besides, Edward will be back any day, and that boy may be a fool, but he won't let you go under.'"

Self-loathing filled Edward. Not only had she needed him, but she'd had to look after Alphonse as well. He felt little better than his thrice-cursed father.

"I'm so sorry Winry. She was right, I should have been here. I just . . . I couldn't get back. No matter what I tried I just couldn't . . . Thank you for taking care of Alphonse. I'll make it up to you," he finished with a determined glare that softened her.

"Whatever. Alphonse is like my own brother, and the only one who I could really talk to about everything. And, anyway, I did grow up tough. It's been hard, but I'm okay on my own. I'm sure as soon as your auto-mail is done you'll disappear again, like always," she finished on a melancholy note.

Edward frowned. He hated that she didn't believe him, that he'd let her down so badly. "I promise I won't disappear on you again."

She grinned, then shook her head in disbelief. "So you say."

A thousand emotions tumbled around behind her eyes. Longing she thought long-extingushed and frustration she'd never been able to reconcile raced to the surface from the buried place deep witihin her. Before he could react, she leaned toward him and planted a light kiss near the corner of his mouth. The spot tingled even after she moved away. With an complicated smile, she left him, calling over her shoulder, "I have to get started on this automail. You should go find Al."

Ed stood frozen even after she had gone from his view. He had no idea what had possessed him to make a promise like that. Technically, he was still a member of the military, and there was no telling what they would want to do with him now, much less whether Alphonse had made any commitments to them. All he could come up with was that it ate at him to see her so cynical, especially when it was all his fault.

After Alphonse, Winry was his best friend. He had written her a constant stream of letters up until he was pulled through the Gate. In a round-about way he wasn't sure she had ever decoded, he had told her things he had never told another living soul, things he hadn't even confided to Al. He'd been away from her for four years, and the woman he found in place of the cheerful girl he had known was both familiar and mysterious. He wondered whether Pinako would have stopped trusting him too, after all this time.

Another thought struck him. She had said that Alphonse was like a brother. Ed hoped that strictly fraternal emotion did not extend to himself. He certainly hadn't felt brotherly for that odd moment when he pinned her on the bed. Scowling at himself, Ed shoved his hands in his pockets and took off to find Al.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Two days passed in idyllic quiet. Winry labored unceasingly on the automail, barely pausing to sleep or eat. From the wild light in her eyes, the boys could tell she was in the grip of profound inspiration. Any significant disturbance would undoubtedly provoke a flying wrench to the head. Edward and Alphonse ventured into town to buy clothes and shock old acquaintances. Sensitive subjects shifted restlessly beneath the conversation, but were kept quiescent.

Edward took long, strolling walks in the early morning and late afternoon, taking in deep draughts of the fragrance of home. Though he was certainly awake, his mind buzzed with a pleasant sort of static. He had been a long time away from the shifting summer grasses concealing secret flocks of birds or insects that would unexpectedly burst into the air to startle him, too long away from the cool draft drifting up from the banks of the sleepy river, too long from the crunchy dirt roads with rising dust that smelled inexplicably only of Resemboul. He remembered always feeling so restless here, anxious to get out and away. Now, the idea of leaving filled him with unease and the image of Winry's cynical visage. Travel had taken Edward even further than a little boy's imagination could reach. He was determined to find a way to meet his obligations and stay in Resemboul. He had never been one to put off plotting his goals, but at the moment, he couldn't bear to do more than soak up the quiet and breathe deep.

Emerging bleary-eyed from her workshop in the early evening, Winry gazed dispassionately at the chess game Ed and Al were ferociously engaged in. From infancy, they had spent every waking moment together and it used to show in all their games, perfectly matched in wits and perfectly predicting one another. After four years of separation, they had resumed some of their former closeness, but Alphonse had grown more mischievous, Edward more controlled. Far from allowing for a less competitive atmosphere, as Winry had conjectured, the new dynamic made them more intent than ever to best one another in the intellectual forum. Alphonse pondered the board with single-minded concentration while Edward ground his teeth and tapped out an irritating rhythm on the table with his metal fingers. She stood by the table for a full minute, unnoticed in the tense silence. She cleared her throat. Neither Ed nor Alphonse so much as twitched a muscle, as if breaking eye contact with the board would mean losing some invisible contest. Winry sighed loudly and cleared her throat again.

"Al," she said, expecting the more considerate Elric brother to respond. He ignored her completely. "Alphonse!" she barked with more irritation. His eyes shifted toward her, but it was Edward who snapped back at her.

"We're busy here, Winry," Edward growled, finally picking up a piece and setting it down. "Why don't you just go back to my automail?" He added, eyes glinting at the board with satisfaction.

Alphonse frowned in consternation, forgetting Winry entirely. Winry prickled. Once again, she was merely an outsider, good enough for passing amusement or manual labor, but certainly not meriting the interruption of whatever the Elric brothers were pursuing. Though Edward was steadfastly pretending to ignore her, the game had fled completely from his mind. He could feel her charging up to angry, almost as if she was gathering positive ions out of the air to make an electric shock. The tips of his fingers tingled in anticipation of a rousing argument. He had been idling in neutral for two solid days and suddenly realized he was itching to shift into gear.

Whipping her hand out, she snatched the chessboard and flung it into the air over her shoulder. Rooks, pawns, and kings rained onto the kitchen floor.

"Winry," Al whined as Edward shot out of his chair, letting it clatter behind him.

Winry was already on her way out of the kitchen and headed up the stairs. "We're getting out of the damned house. We've all been cooped up for days." The boys both wandered out into the living room after her as she continued. "Get dressed! We're going out!" she finished, slamming her bedroom door.

Ed looked at Alphonse, too bewildered to speak. Al giggled.

"She's been cursing like a sailor in there for the last two hours. She's just making an excuse," Al said.

Edward smiled. "I thought you weren't paying any attention to her."

Al shrugged, "Sometimes it's better if she gets grumpy. Otherwise she feels guilty about doing what she wants to do."

Ed frowned after his brother as they climbed the stairs to change. Ed wasn't sure what to make of that weary wise look that crept into Al's eyes. Perhaps Al wasn't really the one who had needed taking care of.

Edward was pacing when Winry finally emerged from her room. He stopped short watching her descend the staircase. In his memory, Winry hardly ever dressed up, and even when she did, she maintained something of her casual air, like her ever-present ponytail or clunky boots. Apparently, she had figured it all out somewhere along the way. She was wearing a summery blue dress that swung carelessly just above her knees and a short jacket. Hair hair was only partially up, the rest of her long tresses cascading around her shoulders in a shining gold curtain. She had even discarded the boots for more feminine footwear. Edward didn't know what to make of her. He had merely pulled on his usual somber blacks, knowing there wasn't much of anywhere to go "out" in Resemboul.

Alphonse was already headed out the door. Ed caught a whiff of something that reminded him of dawn near the river as Winry passed by him. She looked back over her shoulder.

"Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there all night?" she asked.

Edward mentally shook himself. "Uh, yeah, sorry."

As the three of them walked toward town, Edward felt skittish. He wasn't sure where to place himself or how close to her to walk. Alphonse walked ahead of them, turning often to chatter with Winry. It was as if they had been transported back to childhood, only Ed felt out of place in a way he didn't recognize. Laughing at some comment Al had made about a neighbor Ed barely remembered, Winry veered in and slipped her hand through the crook of his elbow. She was clinging to the automail arm, but he was still rocked out of place.

Alphonse had turned forward again and she leaned closer and whispered, "What's with you? You're a million miles away and Al is starting to worry."

A tide of envy surged through him. Winry and Alphonse had forged some invisible bond while he was away and he resented being the odd man out. At the same time he wanted to kick himself for being angry that they had been there for each other.

"I'm fine," he spit out, harder than he intended. Winry drew away warily and he felt a muted pang. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"The Golden Goose."

Ed snorted, "You're pretty dressed up for the dingy old common room of an inn."

She smoothed her skirt self-consciously, making Ed regret his ill-conceived comment. _Why can't I think before I open my mouth? Tell her she looks nice. No, she won't believe it now. Shit. _Winry moved even farther away from him.

"Everybody goes there," she sniffed, lifting her chin up and looking haughty, "There's nowhere else to go. And I do look nice from time to time. I'm surprised you even noticed," she finished.

They walked the rest of the way mostly in silence, Edward quickly sinking into a temper. The atmosphere at the Golden Goose was livelier and considerably less shabby than Edward had anticipated. He had rarely been inside this building other than to grab a quick lunch in town and certainly had not expected such a bustling night time business.

The bartender greeted Winry and Alphonse with gushing affection. Ed's mood turned even fouler when the man merely gave Edward a speculative look before turning back to shower attention on Winry. Alphonse slipped comfortably into the conversation. Edward scanned the crowd, not recognizing most of the people he must have been in elementary school with. He was embarrassed and prickly with it. A group of men about his age in the corner were eyeing Winry appreciatively, laughing amongst themselves. Having spent many years quartering in barracks, he could guess the jocular content of the conversation. He felt his blood heating in his veins. Edward couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a good fight. A mug of ale plunked down in front of him, startling him from his reverie.

Winry glared at him. "Drink this and cheer up. You look mean."

With that, she sauntered off to talk to the now delighted table of men as if she knew them well. "Probably damn mechanics," he mumbled into his glass.

"Brother, you're being really rude. What's the matter with you?"

"Look at those guys! Do you know what they were saying about her?"

Alphonse looked confused. "No, did you hear them or something?"

Ed scoffed. "I could tell by the way they were looking at her. And now she's all buddy, buddy? Hmph."

Alphonse shook his head. "You're being ridiculous. They'd never say anything mean to her. We've known them forever. Don't you recognize Geoffrey and Simon? We used to play with them."

Ed narrowed his eyes, "Geoffrey used to pull her hair on the playground. Simon pushed her off the swing and she skinned her knee. Yeah, I remember those jerks. I should go over there and punch Simon in the face, just for old time's sake. He probably doesn't recognize me," Edward growled as Winry giggled and smiled sweetly at Simon.

Alphonse rolled his eyes. "And you were 100 times worse to her. Maybe I should punch you in the face."

Ed rounded on Alphonse, eyes glittering. Before he opened his mouth to reply, a familiar-looking brunette tapped his shoulder.

"Edward? Edward Elric?"

"Yeah?" he replied, trying to place her.

"I don't know if you remember me. Nellie? I knew you when we were little, but we didn't see much of you once you went off to be a state alchemist."

Edward wreaked him memory, eyes straying to Winry, so clearly enjoying herself. An older man with an automail hand joined her court of admirers. He remembered a little girl with sun-streaked brown curls tagging along to the river behind them.

"Yeah, I remember. Hi."

Although Edward managed to enjoy himself marginally making small talk with people he had know in what seemed like another life, he grew ever more irritated at the sight of so many men courting Winry's attention. Of course, she was charismatic, smart, and kind, but he hated the looks they cast at her, especially Simon. Ed was on the verge of picking a fight with the guy when Winry noticed a great yawn from Alphonse.

Missing a fistfight, Ed picked a verbal spat with Winry instead on the way home. Alphonse stumbled inside the house to bed, leaving Ed and Winry bickering on the porch about the value of alchemic meddling in automail construction. Winry stamped her foot.

"Fine! I'll show you!" she growled, storming off to her workshop with Edward in her wake. She only bothered to light one dim bulb by the door. Edward's partially completed arm was lying in the middle of her work table, surrounded by a scattering of parts. Edward clapped his hands, creating a blue glow that filled the room as he transmuted the metal. Winry picked it up and hefted it, then slammed the hand portion onto the edge of the table. One finger dented slightly and she waggled it at him to show the reduction in range of motion.

"See? I know this metal. It's brittle because the composition is inconsistent. It might be lighter, but much less durable. And look at this hand! Beside the dent, the thickness that made the shape and proportion perfect in the arm is off!"

Edward looked flabbergasted.

"How can you possibly tell?"

"Feel!"

She shoved the appendage in his face and forced his left hand around the lower arm.

"Now feel your real arm!"

Even in the dim, partial light, he could see the passionate fury on her face. Anger radiated from her.

"I can't feel my own arm with the same hand!"

"Then trust me to be right!"

"What difference does it make?"

She puffed up as if filling with steam, making a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl. Secretly, Ed had always loved the way her eyes flashed and her cheeks flushed when she got really angry. He leaned in a little closer to see her better in the dimness.

She shook the arm at him while she yelled, "If it's not exactly right, it will look wrong in your clothes, feel off-balance, change the whole way you move. Just look at that junk you've been wearing. Did you know you've been favoring your right leg? That you use your right arm less than the left? That you never let anyone see your hands next to each other? That you limp because the damn leg is a centimeter too short?" Edward blanched, shocked that she had noticed. "You've been trying to hide those limbs in a thousand little ways that you never used to. This piece has to become your arm, not just some hunk of metal filling in. I pour my heart and soul into this because I never want you to feel broken."

Edward's heart sank. "You think I'm broken?"

Her hands clenched into fists. "No, you idiot! I think you're perfect. You're better than all flesh because your limbs are even better than the natural ones could be."

"So . . . you only like me because I have automail?"

She growled again. "No! I like you because you make me crazy - and happy - and scared to death, all at the same time."

She looked down, cheeks burning. Ed's stomach flipped over. He'd been battling all night to figure out whether he wanted to strangle her or kiss her, and he suddenly knew which one it was. Winry hadn't backed away, but he could feel the heat of her embarrassment coming off her face. Only Winry could be so tough and so totally vulnerable at the same time. All the logical circuits in his brain shorted out and he did exactly what the current of electricity told him he should.

Edward softly touched her lips with his own. A line of sparks skittered up his spine. Her face titled up, following the departure of his lips. There was a melting look in her deep blue eyes that squeezed his heart. He kissed her again, hesitantly sliding his hands around her waist. Her fingers slipped behind his nape. The kiss deepened. She made a small feminine sound in his mouth. Edward was completely lost. All thought of delicacy aside, he poured all the tumultuous joy of his heart into her.

He had finally found a way to tell her all the things he had always wanted to say; that he had been devastatingly lonely for years, that she made him feel more alive than anything ever had, that he loved how fierce and soft she was, but mostly that he loved her, that he had always loved her.

They kissed violently in their haste to get closer, knocking over both stools and sending tools flying. Her hands her tangled in his hair and his were all over her. Her rear end collided with a worktable, forcing out a little squeak. Edward lifted his head from hers long enough to sweep the debris off the table and lift her up onto it. She grabbed his hair and dragged his mouth back down to hers, wrapping her bare legs tightly around his waist. He groaned and pressed against her, running a gloved hand up her thigh under the hem of her dress. She clutched his hand, pulled the glove off it, then settled it back on her thigh. The texture of her skin, silky and hot under his palm, elevated his frenzy. Her hands were underneath his shirt, tracing the muscles of his shoulders. He broke from her lips, reveling in her little gasps as he nibbled at her neck and shoulders, certain he could keep touching her forever and never have his fill.

It was precisely then that his overheated brain began to click back into gear. He couldn't do this, especially when he had no idea what would happen next week, much less forever. He couldn't make a commitment to her now, and had no right to take pleasure from her either. His hands and mouth had stilled, though his breath was still coming in short gasps. Winry's chest was conspicuously in his face. Ed knew he had to get some distance if he intended to follow the morally righteous path. Winry put her hands on his face, forcing him to see the hot coals of desire that still burned in her eyes.

"What is it?" she whispered. Ed felt the magnetic tug of temptation, succumbing to one last taste of her lips before he shook his head, unhooked her legs from around him and backed away a few steps. Her hair was mussed, her lips slightly swollen, and her dress bunched up around her thighs. Ed's pupils dilated and he had to turn away.

"Winry I can't . . . can't take advantage of you like this."

"Take advantage?" He heard her feet hit the floor. "There's no taking advantage!" She slipped behind him and slid her hands over his shoulders, whispering by his ear, "I want you to-"

He shied away, cutting her off before she could say something that would shatter his already tenuous control. "I know, but . . . I just can't - right now. It's not right!" he snapped, sharper than intended in his frustration.

Her shoulders drooped and a little pout formed, making him feel like a total cad.

"We were only kissing, Ed."

He arched an incredulous brow at her and she had the good grace to blush. Edward sighed.

"C'mon. It's late. We need to get to bed."

He gently placed his metal hand on her back and propelled her out of the workroom, extinguishing the little bulb by the door as they went out. He didn't trust himself to put his flesh hand anywhere near her. Winry gave him a coy, sexy look over her shoulder that he'd never seen before. His breath hitched.

"So, you're coming to bed with me?"

He pulled his hand away as if he had been scalded.

"No! Everything's just - things are going really fast and there's still - I need to think a little, okay?"

She scoffed and walked ahead of him, hips swishing.

"You think too much."

Winry was struggling to cover her high state of emotion. Leave it to Edward Elric to goad her into passion as she hadn't even imagined, the pull away just as suddenly to leave her spinning.

She had see him perform alchemy many times; watched as some kind of electricity generated inside him to be channeled into the alchemic force. In all her girlish fantasizing, she had never thought to feel that same force, unfocused and unfinished, coursing into her. She had felt fed and drained at the same time, utterly change in an instant. Deep in her heart's core, Winry knew there would be no changing back.

Winry waited for Ed on the landing and whispered to him when he turned immediately toward his room. "Ed! Ed!"

He whipped around, irritation crackling around him, which caused Winry's pulse to race.

"Aren't you going to kiss me goodnight," she asked sweetly.

His teeth clenched. "I kissed you enough."

Actually he was itching to kiss her again, but was afraid he wouldn't be able to stop, especially this close to her bedroom door.

"That was different. This is just a little goodnight kiss."

Ed pulled together his most arrogant stance. "Nope."

He turned again toward his door. She cleared her throat and pitched her voice up in volume.

"I could ask louder," she said, looking pointedly at Al's door just down the hall. Ed paused with his hand on his doorknob, casting a fearful glance toward his brother's room.

"Fine," he snarled and stalked back over to her. He intended to peck her coolly on the cheek, but her scent curled around him as soon as he got close. Her eyes were closed, her lips half-parted. His heart pounded in his ears. Ed couldn't seem to keep his hands from settling on her waist. He took her bottom lip between his and sucked slightly. The earlier haze began creeping across his vision as she leaned in closer. Edward jerked his head away and fled into his room.

Winry stood in the hallway for several minutes, her insides a mass of jelly, waiting for the phantom of his presence to fade before she could go into her own room.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

In the deepest, quietest hour of the night, Winry bolted awake with barely stifled sob. She bit her knuckles to keep silent and forced herself to calm down. She had only dreamed Ed's return and the magnificent end to the night. He wasn't here and never would be. He was dead - like almost everyone else she had ever loved.

In the grip of a choking panic, she leapt up and fled to his room. Winry gazed at the tarnished knob, wiping the sweat from her palm on the thin fabric of her nightgown before turning it. The room was pitch black. To her immense relief, there was no musty, unused smell, but the suffocating loneliness of her frequent nightmare was still alive in her. She closed the door and inched into the room, toward the faint sound of his slow breathing. Her own breath was still coming fast and she still couldn't be sure that her hope was not creating a phantom. Her shin knocked against the bed frame.

Skimming a hand over the blanket, she could definitely feel a foot and a leg, supple and fleshy as anyone might have. She skimmed for the other. Her breathe puffed out. Hard, sleek metal met her questing fingertips. She recognized the contours of the wretched leg Edward had made for himself. Moisture gathered in her eyes, delight as pure as the night she and Alphonse had dragged him in flooding her anew.

Fully aware that he would be furious in the morning, but unwilling to climb back into her own empty bed where doubts would taunt her until dawn, Winry crept over the bed along his left side against the wall. She slipped under the coverlet and scooched over to him.

He was sprawled on his back, left arm flung out toward the wall. She needed to touch him, to convince herself he was really there, in order to get back to sleep. Very slowly, terrified he would wake and order her out, she lowered her bare cheek onto his chest and rested her head on his shoulder. She stretched one leg over his cool metal one and one arm across his stomach, living out years of fantasy from the uncertain times while he was missing. A few silent tears seeped out before she got a hold of herself.

"Don't you dare disappear again," she whispered into his warm skin. Ed mumbled, tossing in his sleep. Winry held herself completely still. He rolled toward her, shifting his metal arm to rest over her waist. His right leg pressed against hers.

A calm that Winry had rarely experienced in the night settled over her as she drifted into a mercifully dreamless slumber.

Sunlight touched Edward's eyelids, bringing him slowly awake. He felt remarkably comfortable and unusually reluctant to come all the way to wakefulness. His eyes opened to view a mass of soft blond hair. Instantly alert, he lifted his head to see that Winry was there all tangled up with him. He felt a moment of panic, trying to remember if they had done something he damn well wanted to recall the night before. He wracked his brain, but could clearly recollect wrenching himself away from her in the hallway, then throwing his clothes all over the room to vent his frustration when he undressed for bed.

It had taken him a long time to talk himself out of sneaking into her bedroom to finish what they'd started, and even longer to fall asleep with the taste and smell of her still hovering around him.

Edward took inventory of the situation and began to sweat. Everywhere he looked, her long, firm limbs were entwined with his. He could feel the tips of her breasts moving gently against his stomach in time with the warm wisps of her breath on his chest. Her hair was everywhere, parted in one spot to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her neck and clavicle. Edward fought a quick battle with his instincts, which told him to start kissing that spot just between her jawbone and her ear.

As he gingerly extracted himself from the bed, his anger began to steam. What the hell had she snuck in here for? Why should he have to start the day in the same throbbing state of frustration he had reached last night? Yes, they had crossed a certain line in her workroom, but sneaking into his bed barely dressed did not count as giving him time to think.

He quickly pulled on his pant and shoes, then began stomping around the room looking for his shirt. He didn't care if she woke up now. She had explaining to do.

Tugging his shirt over his head, he couldn't help glancing over at the bed. One of his gloves was peeking out from under Winry's sprawled form. Ever since her scathing comments about his pathetic attempts at designing automail, he had been embarrassed to go without the gloves even in the house. He had to have it. Ed considered rudely waking her, but he furiously admitted to himself that she looked irresistible. He wasn't sure what he would do when she looked at him all sweet and sleepy.

Her nightgown was bunched up well above her knees, leaving her smooth, slender legs in full view. Her naked arms were splayed to either side, taut and sculpted from her craft, and a soft smile turned her lips. She was all over pale and gold to match the soft light of morning.

To retrieve the glove, he would have to lean all the way over her and pull it out from underneath her. He didn't feel certain he could get that close and keep his hands off her. Edward clung desperately to his irritation that she was there at all.

The glove was just under her left shoulder. Ed put his hand beside her right shoulder and leaned over her, stretching his right arm toward his errant clothing. Her faint morning dew scent hit his nostrils. He gritted his teeth and concentrated on extracting the glove, grateful he couldn't feel the texture of her skin with metal fingers. It may have been the cool sensation of them that caused her eyes to flutter open. A sleepy smile lit her face and the deep blue pools of her eyes.

"Ed," she breathed, wrapping her arms around his neck. The glove was now completely free, but Edward was frozen in place as she pulled him down to her mouth. He felt the tip of her tongue flick over the place where his lips met and groaned as he sank into her. From somewhere far away, he thought he heard someone calling him. Ed assumed it was his conscience as the cobwebs cleared. He came back to his senses to find her hands tracing the muscles along his spine while he had the delicate fabric of her nightgown clenched in his fists, hard against her lower back. He had somehow come back onto the bed over her. One of her long legs was wrapped around one of his. He let go, pushing himself off the bed, panting a little.

"Damn it, Winry! Cut it out! What are you doing here?"

Edward hastily backed away from the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. Winry just stretched and gave him a cat in the cream smile.

"You didn't seem to mind about 10 seconds ago. If I had that to wake up to every day, I might begin to like mornings," she said, casting enough heat with her gaze to make him flush with a possessive sort of pride. He deepened his frown.

"Why are you here?"

She made a little hmmph noise and rolled toward the wall. He thought he heard her mumble something into the pillow. Edward found himself creeping closer.

"What?"

She turned her furious face toward him and spat, "I had a nightmare, okay! I've been having the same one since Granny died and it was even worse last night!"

""So, you crawl into my bed and seduce me? We're not kids any more. When I wake up to find you in my bed, it's a lot different, especially after last night!"

"i didn't come to seduce you! You're not that irresistible, you arrogant ass! I just needed to make sure you were really here."

"What are you talking about?"

"None of your business," she grumbled, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"If it involves you sleeping in my bed, it's my business."

"This is my house and technically this is my bed, so I can do what I want!" she replied tartly.

Ed scowled imperiously down at her, "So I should get out and find someplace else to sleep if I want any peace? Is that what you're saying?"

"Maybe you should!"

"Fine!" he shot back and stalked away from her toward the dresser. Winry gritted her teeth. She jumped up and grabbed his arm.

"Ed, I didn't mean it." He ignored her. "Ed," her tone changed to soft and pleading, "please don't go. I'm sorry. It's just, it was really awful . . . you wouldn't understand." She padded back over to the bed and sat down, her head in her hands. Edward felt his wall of offense completely crumble. He sat down next to her, tentatively draping an arm over her shoulders.

"I overreacted. So tell me, what's this terrible dream? Monster under the bed?"

She pulled away and socked him hard in the shoulder.

"I'm not a child, stupid! It's just . . . my parents are dead, and Granny is dead, and Den's getting old, and Al was hardly ever here, and I didn't want to believe that you were dead too, but you completely disappeared for four years! I have friends, but most of the time it's just me in this empty house choking on all the memories of the people I care about who are gone forever. I've been waiting so long for you to come home that I almost don't believe it. And I know that any second you're going to get restless and take off again. Then what?"

Edward took in her ravaged expression. He knew exactly what she meant. At least she didn't have to live with the guilt that all those dead people were her fault. She snuggled into him.

"It's just, you always wrote to me before. I checked the mail for a while, but after the first year . . . well, now it's been so long and I'm not sure you would write to me anymore," she pulled away. "You're right," she said, looking up at him. "Everything's different now."

Her cynical, world-weary mask was falling back into place. Ed hated it. He took one of her hands in between his, trying to recapture the sweet vulnerability that had melted away.

"I kind of missed writing to you. On the other side . . . I started a lot of letters, even finished a couple, before I remembered they would never get to you. It was weird . . . like suddenly I had no one to talk to." He shook his head self-consciously, feeling more exposed than he had realized he would. Winry smiled tremulously.

"I kept all the letters you wrote me, you know, even the ones from when you were training with Izumi," she said, looking down and their intertwined hands. Edward inched away, slipping his hands away from hers. He scratched the back of his neck just to have a distraction from his embarrassment. Some of those letters had been a little deeper than he would have liked.

"Heh . . . Why?"

She didn't meet his eyes. "They were all I had of you - you and Al both. I was always just here, learning my trade but never really going anywhere," she clenched a fist, letting a bitter edge creep into her tone. "Waiting, just like Grandma said I should do. I would read and reread them, plotting to run away and join you. Some of the stupid risks you took!" She shook her head. Finally, she met his eyes. "Anyway, it was a good thing I did keep them. Al needed them when he got back."

"Why would Al need to read that stuff? He was there."

A spasm crossed Winry's face. "I didn't realize you didn't know. I thought he would have already told you. Didn't you notice how much younger . . . "

Edward's eyes flashed. "Tell me what?"

"Well," she began nervously. Winry leapt up and took a couple paces toward the door. He watched her like a jungle cat locked onto its prey, all lingering tenderness vanished. His tension singed the air. "When we found him, he wasn't a 15-year-old boy. He was the same 10-year-old who had tried and failed to bring back his mother."

"What do you mean?" Ed whispered, his gaze shifting over her shoulder to a distant thing she knew she would never discern.

"He doesn't remember anything after that transmutation, the one where you tried . . . well, it's like he woke up and everything had changed except him,' she ended lamely.

Ed slid off the side of the bed and landed on the floor, like a marionette with strings cut. His eyes were terribly far away. Winry felt a jolt of panic. She rushed on, "We had long talks with Mustang and Armstrong. They think maybe the price for him to come back whole, that the philosopher's stone and your disappearance wasn't enough. They guessed that the knowledge and experience he gained during those years might have been a part of it. We've all told him everything we know and he read your letters, so he believed all of it, but he hasn't lived through it."

Finally, Ed spoke, barely audible, looking like a zombie. "I was right. I should be dead. For some reason, my shitty life wasn't good enough to exchange for his."

A pillow hit him square in the face, causing him to merely shift his tortured gaze to Winry. The pain evident in him lanced through her.

"Don't you dare say that! It's a gift that you didn't die, not a punishment! Bringing you back - finding you - that was all he cared about. Why don't you talk to your brother before you drown yourself in guilt? Alphonse is just fine. He's not moping around about it and neither should you!" With that, she flounced out of the room, leaving the door wide open.

Edward sat motionless on the floor. All the joy he had absorbed in the last 24 hours evaporated as if it had never been. He felt as though his heart had been ripped out of his chest, sill beating. Edward had noticed that there was something not quite right about his brother, but had been so busy panting after Winry and gloating over his own miraculous return that he hadn't even asked.

Th entire construction of his too-wise, compassionate little brother that had been built during those desperate years when they had only each other was gone forever. Al had read guarded letters to the girl at home and heard from military officials he didn't even know, but that was all. There would never again be a person Ed could talk to who would know just exactly what that hellish clutch of years had truly held. All those moments that belonged only to the two of them - silly things like card games on long train rides and talks in dark hotel rooms - they were all lost. Lost to whatever greedy, cruel power lay inside that terrible gateway. Guilt and loss mingled so heavily in the pit of Ed's stomach that he felt a rising nausea. How could he ever ask Alphonse to forgive him? Edward had sealed his brother's soul inside a suit of armor to keep Alphonse from death's cold fingers. He also seemed to have sealed up part of it inside himself.

He was pulled from his stupor by the sound of Alphonse's voice downstairs. Edward refused to be a coward. He had to talk to Al.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

As Edward slunk down the stairs and into the living room, he could hear Winry clanging around in the kitchen. Sighting his brother, Alphonse immediately put down his book and beamed at Edward. Ed felt a band of guilt tighten around his heart. How had he not noticed how young Al looked? Probably because the kid was already almost as tall as Edward (_dammit_).

"Good morning!" Al chirped.

Ed managed to mumble, "Morning," while avoiding Al's eyes. Ed was just working himself up to broach the subject when Al gave him a sly look and addressed him overly loudly.

"I would have thought you'd be in a better mood this morning."

Edward frowned at him. Al's expression was familiar. It spelled trouble. The kitchen had gone suspiciously silent.

"Why?"

"Well, I came to wake you up earlier, but you probably didn't hear me, what with you and Winry being so . . . involved . . ."

A pan crashed in the distance. Edward turned scarlet.

"What did you - don't you knock?" Ed sputtered.

Al grinned evilly.

"I did, but it seems that sticking your tongue halfway down Winry's throat makes you go deaf."

"Ow! Fuck! Fuck!" came from the kitchen.

"Al!!" Ed screamed, chasing his suddenly light-footed foe out the door.

They scuffled furiously in the long grass. Al won after striking a sneaky blow that knocked the wind out of Ed. Alphonse, shining with triumph in the sunlight, flopped down on the grass next to his wheezing brother.

"Dirty . . . trick . . . Where'd you . . . learn . . . "

"You can learn all kinds of interesting things in the barracks. Plus, you gave us quite a reputation for dirty tricks. I had to live up to your legend. Funny that nobody mentioned you were so slick with the ladies," he finished in a provoking tone. Ed flushed anew.

"I can't believe you saw that."

Al giggled. "I was't exactly surprised. You two have been yowling at each other like a couple of alley cats in heat."

Edward chucked a rock at his brother that Al easily dodged. "Anyway, Winry's been pining after you for years. Some of those letters you wrote her make me think she wasn't the only one."

Mention of the letters sobered Edward. He sat up to face Alphonse, absently tracing an alchemic symbol in the wet, fragrant earth. Ed's fingers touched the edge, pulling forth a delicately scented lily. Al watched him with a pained expression.

"Winry told me about . . . your memory," Edward forced out, still not ready to look at his brother. The head of the flower bobbed in the slight breeze. Edward braced himself for Al's censure, which he wasn't sure he could bear. Alphonse gazed at the flower, newly born, wandering the paths of memory and hitting the usual wall. As was the case with most of Edward's alchemic creations, the lily was elegant but also too flashy in its mathematical perfection, brought forth with little effort. Or maybe supreme effort was so innate in Edward that it merely appeared ordinary. Al could see the guilt gnawing at Edward's soul and searched for a way to explain forgiveness.

"You wrote to Winry about how you passed your state alchemist test. I was so proud when I read about it. You didn't transmute some big stupid monstrosity. Instead, you saw people in danger and you made it into something beautiful. You even wrote about why you thought of flowers - about Nina."

Edward felt as though his brother had just shoved a serrated knife into his heart, one he deserved. He would never forget that innocent little girl or what her own revolting excuse for a father had done to her. Nausea roiled through him.

"I like to think that pride is something I remember, but I can't picture what color the petals might have been or what the formal court would have looked like filled with them. Did they have a scent? Was it something like that?" he asked, gesturing toward the blossom Edward was suddenly tempted to destroy. "I know what happened to that little girl, but I can't remember her face or miss her. She's just a sad story to me. What is it about a body that carries memory? Does it slip off steel where it seeps into skin? I don't think our souls are designed to carry on so far away from our bodies."

Ed finally spoke, his voice breaking over his words, his face pleading, "I'm so sorry, Al. You should have all those memories. When I," he swallowed, struggling to continue,"when I brought you back, I offered everything; my life, my body, my soul - everything. The fact that I'm still alive means that whatever sadistic thing makes decisions in that gate didn't think I was worth it. God, I'm so sorry I failed you. How could I fail you?" Ed put his head in his hands to hide the tears that burned him.

All around them, the day went on uncaring. The sun continued its slow track across the sky, insects buzzed and flitted, birds chattered, wind darted in and out of the tall summer grasses. Edward had never felt so ravaged. Alphonse sighed heavily. Ed had always been a martyr.

"When I woke up, he first thing I did was ask for you. I remembered starting the transmutation and how everything went wrong. I remembered that gate, being there all alone, seeing your face on the other side of closing doors. I thought you had died. I was in a hospital room I had never seen, surrounded by strangers. The military had guards on me constantly and I was afraid to sleep. I kept asking for you, what had happened, how I got there, but nobody would answer me."

"Alphonse, I-"

"Let me finish," Alphonse cut him off with a previously unknown harshness that reminded Ed of the dark cynicism Al had started to develop near the end of their journeys together. "I was fighting with one of my sad-eyed bodyguards again about you when Winry came in. Of course, she rushed in all teary, hugging me," Al paused, looking steely. "I was shocked. Obviously somebody briefed her on everything before she saw me, because she wasn't surprised, but I was shocked. 'How did you get so old,' I asked, 'How long was I out? Was it a coma?' She cried a lot, took me outside where they let the patients get exercise, and told me everything she knew. It was hard to believe. How could 5 years of my life be totally gone, like they were never there at all? How was it possible that you survived the first transmutation but now you were gone without a trace? Did I fail you somehow? What had you done? Where had you gone? How could you bring me back to my body, then leave? I was angry and sad. I got so sick of everyone feeling sorry for me, even Winry. I hated the military hospital - all those pitying looks. It was a relief to come home to Resemboul. Aunty Pinako never looked at me like that. Winry gave me all your letters and I read them over and over, looking for clues about what we had done and what might have happened to you. I had a lot of time to think, brother."

Ed forced himself to look at Alphonse. He expected to find blame and resentment writ in Al's countenance, but found only clear-eyed determination. It reminded him of the days when they had studied with Izumi. Edward had always been hot-tempered, easily frustrated. It had been Alphonse, with his quiet, focused, determination that had always pushed them onward. Pride in his brilliant little brother began to thaw Edward.

"I read everything you wrote, on and in between the lines, and I spent hours quizzing everyone in the military I could find about those events. General Mustang and General Armstrong knew the most, but General Mustang was the only one who would tell me everything without treating me like a lost little boy."

Al put a hand on Edward's arm, looking at Edward as if he knew the secret contents of every dark corner in Ed's mind. "We saw terrible things - things no person should ever have to know or see. I didn't tell Winry about that stuff. I didn't think she should have to know about that. Everybody thought you were dead, but I knew you weren't. Sometimes, late at night when I couldn't sleep, I would feel for you somewhere along the strings of empty space, and I knew you were there. All I had to do was find the path.

I spent two years finding all the facts, then two more traveling and studying. The thing is, there was no emotion tied up in all those weird, scary things I learned about. I felt like a detective on a case, following behind you and the ghost of myself, just out of sight. Things came as easily for me as they had always come for you. I could even do alchemy just by clapping my hands, just like they told me you could do.

I don't think I could have done it if I had remembered it, if every place was haunted by dead, maimed people we hurt or tried to save. I don't think I could be happy feeling like an adult trapped in the body of a boy. I couldn't resent being a kid. I was a kid! I'm sad I lost the time we spent together, but I don't think I want to carry all that around in my head or my heart. It's ugly and I don't need it. You protected me like you always do. You took it all with you. I'm not mad at you, brother. I think you did everything just right. I'd be furious if you died." A shadow crept over Al's face. " I even got a chance to show everybody that I could be a great alchemist, too, all on my own. I'm grateful to you for everything, brother, especially my life."

"So - you don't hate me?" Ed asked cautiously. Al scoffed and smacked Edward in the head.

"That's stupid! You gave me everything. I think you like feeling like crap. I love you! I couldn't be happier than I am right now because I have the one thing I wanted most. I got you back."

Edward grinned sheepishly and fiddled with a rock on the ground. "You're a really good brother, Al."

Alphonse laughed, jumping up and transforming from a preternaturally wise old man into a teenage boy. "I know. Are you going to take that flower back to your girlfriend?"

"She's not my - well, I don't really know where we're at. Anyway, why should I? Now, if it was a socket wrench . . . "

Alphonse rolled his eyes. "It's amazing you ever got her to kiss you at all. You're not very romantic."

"I didn't - well, I kind of - but she started it this morning -"

"Plech! Spare me the details, please. Give her the flower because it's pretty and she'll like it. Just because she's a mechanic doesn't mean she's not feminine. Plus, she's been slaving away on your automail for days. You should do something nice for her."

Edward waved a hand airily at him. "Pshaw! Don't girl me with that girl stuff. She already won't leave me alone, I don't need to finesse her. She'd probably just throw something at me."

Al just shook his head and headed back toward the house. After giving him a considerable head start, Ed clapped his hands, pulling two more lilies out of the ground, each a subtly different shade, then plucked all three.

"Doesn't need to know I listen to his advice. He's already a know-it-all," Ed mumbled to himself.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Ed loitered around the front of the house to make sure Al had gone in before following the acrid scent of burnt metal around to Winry's workshop in the back. She was bent over her work table expertly wielding a welding torch. She wore her usual work garb; kerchief over her head, jumpsuit rolled halfway down, skimpy tube top, heavy work gloves, and, at the moment, protective goggles. Sparks danced dangerously near her bare arms. She was humming loudly in a manner that suggested she was completely tone deaf. Her shoulders and back were dusted in soot and glistening with sweat. Edward was immobilized considering how raw and sexy she looked. He fought down a savage urge to ravage her. Regaining himself, he crept up behind her, flowers behind his back. He was feeling extremely silly, giving this vivid creature a few lilies.

Winry turned off her torch, pushed up her goggles, and beamed at the shape the leg she had been working on was taking. "Yep, excellent, better than ever," she congratulated herself.

Ed leaned close, only a couple inches behind her shoulder, and said, "So, it's going pretty good, Win?"

"Aack!" she screamed, jumping up and dropping the leg back down on the table.

"Careful with that!" Edward admonished, "I need it!"

She whipped around, groping for a blunt object to smack him with. "Don't sneak up on me!" she snarled, waving a metal tube threateningly. "You could screw up my work and I'd have to start all over." She smacked him on the head to stop his guffawing. He rubbed the sore spot but kept grinning like an idiot, unable to choke down his mirth. Winry growled as she slapped the tube back down on the table. "Speaking of screwed up, go fix the arm you alchemized last night. Original metal composition!"

"Okay, okay, calm down. Hold these for me," he said, shoving the lilies into her hand, turning toward his task to hide his awkwardness. She took them mechanically, marveling at the slender perfection of the blooms, soft and delicate in her filthy, ragged work gloves. She barely noticed the blue glow that filled the room. He strolled back to her.

"All right, fixed."

Winry looked up to meet his eyes, slight color staining her cheeks.

"Are these for me?" she squeaked.

"Well, they were, until you hit me with whatever that was," he replied with a lopsided grin, loving the way she shifted effortlessly from screaming termagant to sweetness.

"Oh, Ed, they're beautiful! Thank you!"

She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him, but pulled away almost immediately as she remembered how dirty she was. Ed scratched the back of his neck, mumbled something inaudible, then hightailed it out of the room. Winry carefully set the flowers aside before checking the arm. He had returned it exactly to its original state, even down to removing the dent in the finger, just as she had asked. Winry returned to work with new diligence, joyfully planning an assault on Edward for later in the evening.

When Ed and Al shuffled into the kitchen for dinner, they immediately noticed the dainty blooms settled in a chipped water glass in the center of the old, scarred table. Despite Al's mocking smirk, Ed felt absurdly pleased with himself. As she settled down much too close in the seat next to him, Winry gave him a smile equal parts delight and promise. It was warming enough to make him clumsy and awkward all through dinner. Edward spent the entire meal trying to figure out how he would fend her off later and trying to remember why he should.

In the midst of clearing up, Alphonse, paying more attention to the silent drama taking place than what he was doing, dropped a glass which shattered on the floor. He knelt down to sweep up the pieces with one hand.

"Sorry, Winry."

"Just use alchemy, Al. You've always been good at fixing things," Edward said over his shoulder. He was still watching Winry, who was just as aware of his approach behind her as she bent over the sink.

"Yeah, Al, I know you can fix it in a second," she said.

The total absence of response alerted them both. Alphonse was watching them like a cornered rabbit. He fled upstairs, slamming his door. Ed turned to Winry, bewildered.

"What was that all about?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. He used to show off 12 times a day. Come to think of it, I haven't seem him transmute anything since he brought you back."

Frowning deeply, Edward repaired the glass and handed it back to Winry. "I'll go talk to him."

Edward knocked politely on his brother's door. "Al? C'mon, Al, what's going on? Alphonse?"

He tried the knob and found it wouldn't budge. He clapped his hands irritably to transmute the lock. Al was sitting cross-legged on his bed in the dark, staring mutely out the window at the soft evening. He made no move to show he noticed Edward's presence. Ed put a hand on his shoulder, easing down on the edge of the bed. Al did not jump nor react.

"What's wrong? Did I do something stupid again? You should know by now I can't help it."

Al turned toward his brother with dreamy eyes. "I was afraid to die," he said.

"What? What do you mean?" Ed asked, very alarmed.

"Wrath and Gluttony and the stones they carried weren't enough to pull you back. The thing in the gate - it said that wasn't enough. I told it I would give anything, that you didn't belong on the other side, that the balance was all wrong, that I'd take you even without the arm and leg - I didn't care."

'You were right!" Ed exploded, "The arm and leg don't matter!"

"No - when I said I'd give anything, that thing knew I didn't mean it. Remember how you said today that you offered everything? Well, you were braver than I was. I was scared to die. I wanted my life. It laughed at me," Alphonse drew a shuddering breath. Edward felt panic rising from the pit of his stomach to clutch around his throat. "It had already taken my memories, so I didn't have much of anything to offer. I gave the only thing of value I had besides my life."

"What?" Ed whispered, afraid to hear the answer.

Al shook himself free of Edward and walked over to the nearest wall, where an elaborate, perfectly executed transmutation circle was chalked onto the wall. Al placed his hands on it. Nothing happened. He clapped his hands together and pressed it again. There was still nothing, just slightly smeared chalk. Edward reeled.

"Maybe one of the runes is off," Ed sputtered.

Al shook his head sadly.

"Come here, brother. Put your hand on it."

"I'm sure it's just an error! We'll redo it!"

Alphonse grabbed Edward savagely, dragging his left hand toward the circle. As soon as a single gloved finger touched the edge, light filled the room. It was a particularly potent circle. Ed felt energy coursing through himself instantly. He whipped his hand away before there was time to transmute.

"You see?" Alphonse asked, succumbing to tears. "I understand it. I know how to design it, what it's for, how it should work. I know where the energy to transmute should be. I know everything, but it won't work. I don't know what to do. I never thought . . . I was going to be a state alchemist . . ." Alphonse crumpled. Edward held his weeping brother tightly, feeling utterly helpless. He knew exactly how Alphonse felt. On the other side, the loss off alchemy had been like a gaping wound. It was as if even though he understood the laws of the universe, that universe shrugged him off, uncaring. The infinite sweep of possibility that had always colored his life hovered just outside his grasping fingers.

Alphonse spoke again, hiccuping. "I don't know what to do with my life. I'm only 14, but I don't know how to do anything else and I have no idea where to begin."

The enormous mound of guilt that had briefly lifted this afternoon resettled on Edward's shoulders. Edward patted Al's arm.

"Don't worry. As soon as Winry's done with my automail, we'll go to Central and see if I still have a career. We'll brainstorm on the way there and come up with something, like we always do. We're an unstoppable team, right? The famous Elric brothers!"

Al wiped his eyes. He looked up at his brother, face shining with hope. Edward felt like a hideous fraud. He had no idea what to do. Edward waited in the room until Al fell asleep, worrying silently. Finally, his brother snoring, Edward got up to face Winry, who would probably peck at him like a mother hen.

As expected, she was pacing the hallway, but at least she waited for Ed to close Al's door before accosting him. "So?" she asked, following Ed into his bedroom. "Well? Ed?"

He sat heavily down on the bed, settling his head between his hands. "How soon will the automail be done?" he asked, not looking at her.

"Probably the end of the day tomorrow. Why? What is it?"

"Al and I are going to Central."

Winry stomped her foot in frustration and marched over to stand in front of him. When he still didn't look up she knelt down, sliding her hands over his knees, gazing up into his face. He couldn't ignore the plea in her eyes.

"He can't do alchemy."

"What do you mean? Like he forgot?"

"No. It was what he paid to get me back. It's gone forever."

Winry rocked back on her heels. Before she could respond, Edward continued with mechanical calm, "I have to go back to Central anyway - see what the military wants to do with me. I have to figure out how to help Al. It's my fault and I have to find some way to fix it. His whole life . . . everything's different."

Winry moved toward him, aching to offer him any type of comfort. He felt stained and torn, unworthy of her touch. Hell, the way things were going, he's probably hurt her too. He rolled into a ball on the bed, facing the wall. "Goodnight, Winry," he said. The door closed quietly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Edward tossed all night, wishing Winry would creep in again so he could hold her and still blame her for his weakness. Dawn broke lonely. They all avoided each other in tense silence throughout the next day. Very late that night, Edward was attempting to read a book he'd read several times before when a soft knock sounded on his door.

"Come in."

Winry stood on the threshold looking exhausted. "It's done. I can connect it in the morning." She looked at Edward expectantly, wringing her hands. "So . . . how long will you be gone?"

There was uncertainty and longing in her every gesture. Ed softened, but resisted the urge to kiss away the furrow in between her brows. "I don't know. It depends on what the military decides to do with me, and what Al wants to do." He gave her a half-hearted grin. "Maybe they'll just lock me up in a lab and conduct experiments."

Winry chucked a rag at him.

"That's not funny!"

"I was kidding! Really - I don't know."

She opened her mouth, closed it, half-turned to leave, then turned back again. "If . . . um . . . if you're going to be gone a while, will you write to me?" she asked, trying not to let despair eat at her.

Something squeezed in Ed's chest. "Yeah, I will."

"Okay," she said, then left abruptly.

Winry spent another sleepless night in her cold bed. She was tempted to go to Ed's room, but she didn't think she could take being rejected right now. Just before dawn, she gave up on sleep and returned to her shop to polish up the automail.

She admired it from all angles. It was by far the best she had ever done. It was always that way when she crafted for Ed. Something about his moody, prickly, exciting persona inspired her to new heights. If he would only stick around, she'd probably become the greatest automail engineer in the world. She sighed dramatically, hefting the limbs to take up to Ed.

Edward was wearing only his underwear when she came in, but the bed was made beneath him, his clothes carefully laid out on the table. He looked ready for an operation. Winry's fingers tingled, remembering stroking his lean, muscular form. She was tempted to drop the automail and leap on him; bring his faraway golden eyes back into focus. In his current state of mind, however, he was equally as likely to shove her away in annoyance as to respond.

"You ready?"

His eyes touched hers briefly. "Yeah. Just go easy on me, okay?"

"Psh! Don't be a wimp!" she scoffed. Winry abhorred causing him pain. Most of her customers wept or screamed during the nerve connection. Ed had always been incredibly stoic. He gritted his teeth when she disconnected the old limbs, tossing them behind her. "Scrap metal," she murmured disdainfully. Winry tenderly cleaned and adjusted the connection points. Edward broke into a sweat while she worked, fighting to keep still. Finally, she was able to connect the limbs. Winry could almost hear Ed's suppressed screams. They tore at her just as intensely as they would have had he voiced them. She made a long show if putting away her tools afterward, to give them both time to compose themselves. After his shallow breathing had slowed nearly to normal, she stood up and walked back over to him.

"All right, walk around, move, test it out."

Winry felt pride sweep through her. Already, his movements were smoother, more natural. It would take some time for all of the bad habits he had developed to dissipate. He had to learn to trust his new limbs more than he had been able to trust the previous ones. Ed moved cleanly through a series of fighting stances, then clapped his hands together to transmute the shape of the bedpost. He smiled with real warmth for the first time since he had heard about Alphonse.

"It feels great - like I've been missing something for a long time. I don't know how you do it. You're the best. Thanks."

His warmth made her giddy. She wanted to beg him not to leave. She wanted to fall into his arms. She wanted to bash him across his thick head for always tying her up in knots. She wanted him to realize what an idiot he was and ask her forgiveness. She wanted to forgive him with devastating thoroughness. Instead, she rushed out of the room to put away her tools.

After a falsely cheerful breakfast, a grand performance all around, Edward and Alphonse made ready to leave. Winry felt tears pricking her eyes. She cursed herself for being so emotional. At the door, Al gave her an affectionate hug. She ruffled his silky hair.

"See you soon, Winry," he chirped as he bounded out the door. Ed was already on the doorstep, looking impatient. Winry moved into the doorjamb, slightly breathless with expectation.

"Well, bye Winry. Thanks for the tune-up," he said, raising his new arm in a jaunty wave. He started to turn away. Winry saw red.

"That's it?" That's all you have to say?" she spit quietly - too quietly.

Ed rolled his eyes with a lustrous sigh. "What do you want, a freakin' monologue? We're not going away forever. Why do you have to be such a girl?"

"You ass!" she screeched, then slammed the door in his face.

"What the hell was that for?" he screamed back at the closed door. "Winry!!" He fumed for a few more seconds at the closed door before spinning around and walking quickly down the path. "What is her problem?" Ed spat.

Alphonse just shook his head. "Brother, if you don't know what you did wrong, I don't know if you'll ever figure it out."

Winry was storming around her workshop, pretending to be cleaning up, but really just banging things around. Regret washed over her. The last time he left her sight, he was very nearly gone forever. The circumstances were different, but Ed wasn't. Who knew what kind of trouble he would get himself into? She couldn't let the last thing she said to the man she had loved since she was 5 years old be "you ass," at least not without a disclaimer. _Screw pride_, she thought. Winry bolted out of the house after them. They were already out of sight.

Edward kicked rocks moodily. What did the woman want? Was he supposed to fall down on his knees and pledge his eternal devotion? He didn't know what was going to happen when he got to Central. Did she want him to make promises he wasn't sure he could keep? He was startled out of his musings by the sound of someone tearing up gravel behind him. Ed and Al both turned to see Winry running hell-bent toward them. As her focus locked on Edward, she adopted a determined grimace.

"Oh, crap! She decided to hit me after all!"

Ed started to run, but couldn't build up much speed before she tackled him. He ended up on his back in the dirt. His gold eyes flashed at her. "Are you crazy? You already slammed the door in my face! Isn't that en-" she had crawled up his body until her face was just above his, pinning him down with both her legs and arms. She silenced him with a fierce kiss which, after a half-second of shock, he found himself wholeheartedly surrendering to. He had completely forgotten they were in the middle of a dirt road until Al cleared his throat loudly. The sound also alerted Winry, as she pulled up, still breathing hard from her run.

"Couldn't . . . last thing . . . ass . . . " she gasped out.

Edward laughed and rolled her onto her side. "You ran over here to take it back?"

She growled, shoving him back down onto his back. "No, I'm not taking it back! You were being a total ass!"

Disappointed washed over Ed's face. "You came to yell at me more?"

"No, you idiot. I came to tell you that you had better come home to me a hell of a lot quicker than last time and you better have all of your stupid issues worked out because I love you and I don't plan to hang around here for another 4 years wondering if you're alive or dead," she rushed.

There was a silence. "But, I don't know what's going to happen yet."

"Well, you're supposed to be some kind of genius, right? Make it happen. Get back to me. If you fall off the face of the earth again I will not sit around here and wait for you. I will track you down into whatever trouble you've fallen into and beat you into a bloody pulp before I drag you out myself. You got me?" She asked, poking him in the chest for emphasis.

Ed preened. "So, can't live without me, huh?"

Winry punched him hard in the stomach. He cursed and rolled to face her.

"No. So get your ass back here and call me when you figure out what's going on." She sill had dust flying all around her. Her eyes were ferocious. The pain in Ed's side melted. A half smile crept onto his mouth as he gazed at her.

"I'll come back."

"Good," she said with a hard nod.

She leapt up, dusted off her pants, and offered Ed a hand up. He let her help him, then clung to her hand when she would have dropped it. She glared at him. Eyes aglow, he bowed over her hand and pressed her knuckles to his lips. Wearing his most provoking expression, all arrogance and charm, he turned away and continued toward the train station. Al giggled and bowed as well before following Ed.

Winry blushed, speechless for once, and watched them go, her heart tight. She trudged home a little sore and deflated, but was glad she had told him. He didn't freak out, and he did promise to come home.

The house was a malevolent creature of silence. The sheer emptiness pressed in on her. In an attempt to face down her misery, she walked straight into Ed's empty room. Everything was as tidy and impersonal as if he had never been there. She sat down on the bed. What would she do when the nightmare took hold of her again? She happened to glance at the bedpost. Ed had transmuted it into a ridiculously ornate design, with an insipid-looking cupid at the top. She laughed. She wondered whether he had done it on purpose. Even in the dark, she would recognize the atrocity and know he wasn't gone. She looked closer at the abominable filagree. Toward the bottom, it looked almost like an E and a W intertwined. Of course, it might also be squiggles. She'd think of it as initials, like a promise.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Al was still giggling when they got on the train. "You should have seen the look on your face when she tackled you!"

Ed shot him another dirty look, but couldn't quite keep from smiling a little. She loved him. She was waiting for him. She even threatened to come after him. As the train ride progressed, Alphonse began to slump into moody silence, but Edward failed to notice. For the first time in his life, Edward was starting to envision a future - a real future - and it was so enticing he couldn't put it away. As they debarked into the noise of the Central train station, Ed finally took in Al's glazed stare. It jolted him back to reality. What could he do for Alphonse? What if his brother didn't want to be anywhere near Resembool?

Central was seething with people, as usual, all of them in a hurry. Edward was surprised to find himself missing the quiet torpor of home, especially after spending his entire adolescence glad to leave it behind. Perhaps his wanderlust had been slaked, at least for a while.

Alphonse was grim and silent as they checked into a hotel, deposited their luggage, and headed for military headquarters.

"You know, you don't have to go in to see Mustang with me. You can just wait at the hotel and we'll figure things out when I get back."

Alphonse glared at his brother. "I'm not a baby, Ed. Besides, he'll be wanting my report too."

Edward stopped in the middle of the street, a hand on Al's sleeve. "I never thought - are you a state alchemist?"

Al's half-grin was bitter. "No, but Mustang provided me with a lot of restricted information, knowing that I wanted to be. Plus, they don't permit civilians to access the kind of stuff we had been researching before - the information I needed to find you. Anyway, he wanted you back, Full Metal, and he believed I would find a way to do it. I guess you can say I passed my test. It doesn't matter anymore, not now."

Offense ripped through Edward on behalf of his brother. How dare that smug bastard dangle a carrot with such a terrible condition? Al could have died, and then what? He clenched his metal fist, gleefully imagining sending it crunching into Mustang's face.

"That son of a bitch. When I see him I-"

"Brother, stop. Those were the conditions the Council set. I think they were trying to discourage another _little boy_ from becoming a weapon of the state. Anyway, General Mustang is in very high esteem these days. He probably would have given me my certification anyway."

Guilt devoured Edward's anger. "I'm sorry, Al. I wish-"

"Just stop!" Al snapped. Edward jumped in surprise. Alphonse rarely snapped.

"It is what it is. I gave up what I could for you. I'm ashamed that I miss it, especially when you offered your life with no regrets at all. I've never been as good as you and now I never will be," Al finished, kicking a pebble savagely.

Edward grabbed his brother by the arm and shook him until Al looked him in the eye.

"Now you're the one being stupid. I've never done anything worth doing without you. Whenever I got bored, or frustrated, or pissed off, you always brought me back. I'm a total jerk and you're my conscience. I probably would have been strangled 100 times over by now. I'm useless without you. But you - you were able to learn all the things we learned together by yourself. For me, you were the only thing worth opening that damn gate again for and I couldn't have done it alone. But you didn't need me. When you're dead, it's over. There's no worrying about what to make of your life. It's gone. Death is easy. Going on with your life when you've lost a big part of yourself - that's hard. Believe me, I know how hard that is."

Al's eyes glistened, but he merely nodded, then turned to continue marching toward military headquarters, a firmer set to his shoulders. They entered the complex, Edward lagging just behind Alphonse. There were many soldiers milling about, most of whom had never met the Full Metal Alchemist, but almost all had some kind of friendly greeting for Alphonse. Edward glowed with pride watching his calm, collected younger brother moving with an air of confidence but never swaggering. As they closed in on the higher ranking offices, Edward began to hear the gasps and whispers he had expected. He strutted after Alphonse, the sneer from the old days sliding over his features like a protective mask. Al gilded on unperturbed.

A door near the end of the hallway sprang open just before they stepped in front of it. "Alphonse Elric, Full Metal, sir! We've been expecting you," Havoc stated, finishing with a sarcastic wink. Al's mouth barely turned up in a small smile. Edward's jaw dropped.

"How could you possibly - just got - haven't even -" Ed sputtered.

"You going to stand in that hallway all day, Edward?" came a familiar female voice from inside the impressive office suite.

He stomped in, furious to have his dramatic entrance totally blown. Hawkeye's stone-faced expression didn't have a single crack, though there might have been a slight crinkling at the corners of her eyes. The rest of Mustang's staff looked just as spotless and dignified as she did, though it was obvious that the rest of them were trying not to laugh at Edward's consternation. They all saluted him. Edward felt oddly trapped.

"The General has been waiting for you," Hawkeye intoned, opening the door to the inner office.

"Amazing," Edward grumbled. "Maybe he should let me know next time I have an appointment I didn't make."

Al preceded Edward into the inner office. Hawkeye closed the door smartly behind them. From the quiet scuffling noise outside the door, he assumed Mustang's staff was probably having a silent battle for the best eavesdropping position. He had no doubt about who would win.

Edward's temper began to boil as he waited for Mustang to finally look up from his paperwork.

"So, Full Metal, finally decided to report in?"

"Well, General, sir, I was unconscious for the first two days, then I had to get my automail repaired. I wanted to be fit for duty."

Alphonse ignored the tense silence following, sinking into one of the chairs facing Mustang's desk. Mustang walked over to stand in front of Edward. They were almost of a height now, but Mustang was a practiced expert at looking down his nose at people. Al squirmed a little in his seat, waiting for his brother to do something really offensive. Mustang placed a hand on Edward's left shoulder. There was a wealth of emotion in his usually sardonic expression.

"It's good to have you back, Edward. We were worried about you."

Ed replied through a flood of muted surprise, "Thank you."

Mustang nodded, then returned to his desk chair, motioning Edward to sit beside his brother. His gaze regained his typical intense focus as he leaned forward.

"So, tell me everything."

Ed glanced at Alphonse, who gave an encouraging nod.

Edward found less enjoyment in sharing his tale than he had expected. He had always enjoyed adding to his own legend, but he seemed to have finally crossed a line that he was reluctant to discuss. Mustang was deeply interested in the technical details of the alchemy, but Ed purposefully left out significant items. He didn't think anyone should have complete knowledge of what he and Alphonse had done. For his part, Alphonse gave a more abbreviated version to Mustang than he had given to Ed, mentioning nothing about the creature in the gate or of prices paid. A long silence followed. Edward was fully tensed, prepared to defend Alphonse from further questions. Mustang was looking at both of them sharply. Finally, he nodded and settled back into his chair. The brothers blew out relived breaths simultaneously.

Mustang turned his attention to Edward. "Full Metal, your position as state alchemist has been suspended but not terminated. Do you plan to resume it?"

"Yes."

"What direction do you propose for your research, now that the philosopher's stone has been _proven_ to be a myth?"

Edward understood that Mustang was not only asking the question, but also warning him that further discussion or research into the philosopher's stone was now strictly off limits. Edward would be happy never to delve into the subject again, even academically.

He had been carefully considering this for days. He knew he wanted to go home, and that he would need a serious, long-term project to work on to keep his mind occupied. Ed had been very nervous that the military would already have something in mind for him similar to what he used to do, or worse, that they would force him to go back into exploring the philosopher's stone.

"I thought I would live up to my nickname and experiment with the compositions and uses of metals. During my time . . . uh . . . away, I had occasion to explore different methods of forging metals, both for artificial limbs and for flight. " Thinking of Winry's passionate defense of precision in automail, he continued, "With some experimentation in composition, we could build automail that would match the original limbs precisely in weight, movement, and function that are also durable and low in maintenance. Soldiers wounded in combat wouldn't have to be retired if they didn't want to be, nor would they have to feel like cripples. With alchemy, I can experiment with alloys more efficiently than with a forge."

Mustang gave a satisfied nod. "And the flight?"

"In the other . . . country . . . there were several types of machines for manned flight in the air. They were even designing machines to go beyond the atmosphere. It requires a specific combination of physical design, explosive chemicals, and metals made to withstand atmospheric pressure. The technology could revolutionize travel and covert observation."

Again, Mustang nodded. "These sound like worthy efforts of which the Council would approve. We will put out the information to the general public that you have been abroad these past few years, gathering information to begin your research, on an extremely covert mission. What is your estimated timetable for your new research direction?"

Edward knew he was on shaky ground. The military he remembered was notorious for imposing ridiculous deadlines on impossible tasks. What he had just proposed could encompass a lifetime of work, by design. Edward would have to work very cleverly to come up with a satisfying product every three years, both to maintain his status as state alchemist and to keep the projects from going into the hands of less scrupulous agents.

"Automail technology is already fairly far-advanced, so I could probably make a lot of progress within the next couple years, though there will always be room for improvements. The flight machines will take much longer. I'll be starting from scratch without any ready-made materials or plans. I'll need to study with chemists and engineers, research into aerodynamics, the chemical compositions of air and metal-"

Mustang cut him off, grinning. "All right, Full Metal. I'm satisfied. I'll convey my approval as well as the very large scope of your ambitions to the governing Council. I suspect you will need to build a specialized workshop and hire a highly qualified team. Here," he flung a new silver pocket watch across the table. "I don't know what you did with the old one, and you'll need this to get into the libraries."

Ed looked at it for a moment before slipping it into place. The old watch was sitting in a box, under the floorboards in his German apartment. He was glad he had left it there. This one had no bitter reminder scratched inside the case.

Mustang finally turned his attention to Al.

"Alphonse, you have shown great promise as a young alchemist. You fulfilled the condition set for you. Are you still interested in becoming a state alchemist?"

Edward felt panic rise. He gripped the arms of his chair, ready to spring in front of his brother. To his surprise, Al sat straight up and looked at Mustang squarely, his voice clear and confident.

"I've decided not to pursue alchemy. After everything I've seen and all that's happened, I've had enough. I would be tempting fate to continue. I think it would be better to let it go."

Expecting Mustang to push, Ed wound himself into attack mode, his nerve endings tingling. Mustang merely nodded sagely.

"I can respect that. I have a certain position coming available that might suit you very well."

Edward glared at Mustang, oozing suspicion. Where did the man get his damned information? How had he known Alphonse would turn down the position he'd been after for years?

"The governor of a certain county is getting on in years. He's preparing to retire, but we haven't found a replacement for him to train yet. I believe the town of Resembool is a part of the county."

Al's eyes lit.

"Now, I would be crucified for appointing a 14-year-old boy to such a high-level position."

Alphonse's face fell again. Edward was halfway out of his seat, insults burning on his tongue.

"However, there is not a single person within my jurisdiction who will do the job with as much dedication as you would. The best way to guarantee stability in a rural area is to give it a long-term, level-headed leader with very little abrupt change in mind, someone who people are not intimidated by, someone they can trust. It's a long apprenticeship anyway. It takes a lot of study to learn the laws and traditions of a particular county inside and out, and even longer to learn how to administer them. If you're interested, the man currently holding the position will train you until his retirement."

Al was quiet for a moment. "You really want me? What about Ed?"

"Full Metal is a state alchemist with other projects to concern him. Also, he's much too temperamental and lazy to govern. You are by far the better candidate."

Edward leapt out of his chair, literally hopping with rage. "Temperamental? Lazy? You pompous, arrogant a-"

Al hooked his foot under Edward's leg, sending Ed crashing to the floor on his back. Mustang laughed.

"You have a gift for diplomacy, Alphonse."

"Dammit Al!"

Alphonse saluted crisply, ignoring his prone brother. "I accept, General, and I'll study hard to be the best governor the county's ever had."

"I have no doubt. I'll expect regular reports."

Edward had not yet bothered to pick himself up off the floor. Still stinging from the insults, he was incredibly proud of Al. Though he would never say so in Mustang's office, he knew very well Al was so much better at all this crap than he could ever be. In fact, Ed couldn't imagine anything more boring than being a rural county governor.

"Full Metal? Still there?"

"Yes, sir," Ed's tart reply drifted up from the floor.

Hearing Mustang rise, Ed put his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles, as if in perfect comfort. Mustang strolled around the desk, crossed his arms, and looked down at Edward. Ed adopted a nonchalant expression.

"You projects are extremely ambitious. I'm sure you'll succeed in the alchemy and research, but you need a partner who can implement your ideas more capably than you can. You need a principal engineer. It should be someone talented, imaginative, and young enough not to already be engaged in a project of their own; someone who would take a personal interest in these projects, stick with them for the long haul. Of course, it would also have to be someone who could tolerate working with you as a full partner."

Edward sighed, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Somehow, mystically, Mustang already had someone in mind. Edward wondered what kind of self-righteous, patriotic idiot he would be saddled with, and how long it would take replace that guy with Winry. Mustang was nodding to himself now, as if coming to a critical decision, appreciating his own genius. Ed rolled his eyes.

"I can only think of one acceptable candidate, ironically enough located in Alphonse's county." Ed was flummoxed. How did the man do it? "I believe you're already well-acquainted with Winry Rockbell?"

Al clapped his hands and laughed. The hint of a grin danced around Mustang's mouth. Ed suppressed the surge of delight that ran through him. He sighed again.

"Geez, Mustang, that's all you've got? Your resources must be wearing thin these days."

"Not at all. I offered you the best first. Of course, if you don't think you can convince her, I could find you someone else. There is a young engineer in the eastern province I've heard about. His whole family has been in the military for 3 generations - very loyal . . . "

Ed sat up. "No, no, I'll get Winry. I mean, you say she's the best, and I need the best."

"I hope you'll be very persuasive with her, Edward. I think she will be critical to your success."

Mustang strolled back around to sit behind his desk. Ed stood up.

"Go back to Resembool and meet with her. Send back your initial salary and budget requests, along with preliminary plans and location for your workshop."

"Yes, sir," Ed saluted jauntily.

"Well then, gentlemen, dismissed. I look forward to great things from both of you. Full Metal, you will undergo an official assessment in 3 years when it's time for your re-certification, but I expect you and your partner to report at regular intervals."

Mustang resumed his paperwork. Bemused, Ed and Al headed toward the office door, which immediately snapped open. Mustang's staff hung about the room, overly casual. Ed grinned to himself. He strutted to the door, caught Havoc peeking at him, and gave an imperious raise of the brows. Hawkeye opened the door, saluting them both as they walked past. Ed felt a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. He looked back at her to catch the ghost of a smile on her face.

"Say 'hello' to Winry for us. We're very fond of her."

Ed nodded, struck by a sudden sense of distance. Life had gone on here for 4 years. The people he knew so well had changed, though he sometimes forgot that they had moved forward without him. Was this how Alphonse had felt? He frowned thoughtfully on the way out.

As soon as the door closed behind Ed and Al, Mustang came out of his office to stand next to Hawkeye.

"He looks good. Did I give him everything he needs?"

Hawkeye gave Mustang a long look. "I think you did very well. I hope they'll both be happy. They deserve it. Now, get started on convincing the Council to fund all of that. Alphonse is going to be a hard sell."

Mustang only smiled. "It's the job I was born to do."

Outside, Al turned to his brother, spring back in his step. "So, how are you going to ask Winry?"

"I'll just tell her what I need her to do. She'll be into it anyway."

Al stopped in front of him, glaring.

"What?" Ed asked, boggled.

"The General told you to be persuasive, not bossy."

Ed scoffed. "Pshaw! What does he know? I've known her forever."

Al pushed him.

"Hey!"

"You've been gone for 4 years. You don't know what she's been through or what she's done. You don't have a clue. Things haven't been easy for her and she deserves something good! For God's sake, buy her a present; pretend you were the one who picked her, not Mustang; tell her you missed her, something! Last time you saw her she told you she loved you and you didn't say anything! At least pretend to care about her feelings!"

"I care! I just don't want her to think I'm some sort of stupid sap, okay? She doesn't need me to be her damned lap dog!"

Al relaxed a little, shaking his head. "Just trust me, brother. Buy her a present. Tell her you're happy to see her. Then pitch your project."

Edward stuffed his hands in his pockets, scuffing his shoes on the street. "I guess you were right about that flower thing," Ed mumbled.

Al smacked his brother on the shoulder and started walking again. "Exactly. Tough as she is, she's still a girl."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Like I'd ever forget that."

Al blushed, remembering the very public display in the dirt road. "So, what are you going to get her?"

"I don't know. I'll probably just go over to the tool shop and get her whatever the newest expensive thing is."

Al groaned.

"What?" said Ed, exasperated.

"Nothing," Al sighed. "Actually, that's perfect."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The overhead lights in the workroom flickered on earlier in the afternoon than usual. Thick grey clouds had been coughing up the occasional spit of rain all day, though they looked to be mustering a serious downpour. As the dim afternoon faltered into early evening, Winry slammed down her wrench and moodily went about the business of closing up shop.

Two weeks had passed with nothing more than one lousy 5-minute phone call. All Alphonse had bothered to tell her was that they were coming home soon. Ed hadn't been around to talk, or so Al had said - something about a library, of all stupid things. Did neither one of them ever think she might be sick to death of waiting around for them? Did they ever consider she might want to make some plans of her own?

After a depressing solitary dinner and feeding Den, she headed upstairs to clean up and get dressed. Rain or not, she planned to head into town to commiserate with friends. She was tired of being alone. Lately she had been toying with the idea of getting out of Resembool. She had been here her whole life. It was okay when she was a kid, and while Al had needed her, but she was ready to try something new; stop pining over some idiot who couldn't figure out how he felt about anything. Maybe she could go to Rush Valley and set up a little shop of her own, somewhere that would attract more interesting customers.

As Winry stumped down the stairs, she heard a rap on the door. She sighed, figuring it would be some late arrival from the evening train for automail. These customers almost inevitably waited anywhere from 1 to 5 minutes to ask for the "real" mechanic. She stormed up to the door and flung it open, ready to blast whoever might be behind it. Mouth agape, she completely froze.

The rain had finally begun to get serious. Edward stood in front of it, rumpled, damp, and looking uncharacteristically nervous. Under his right arm, he held a soggy, poorly-wrapped box. He shifted uncertainly from one foot to the other.

"Uh . . . can I come in?"

Ed hadn't counted on her already being pissed off. Her ferocious countenance upon opening the door had thrown him off guard, especially when he was specifically trying to avoid a fight.

"Oh! Yeah. Of course. Hi," Winry stammered, moving awkwardly out of the doorway. Ed entered cautiously, then shoved the box into her arms.

"Um . . . I got this for you," he mumbled, looking at the floor.

Winry's eyes lit. "You got me a present?" she squeaked, ripping the paper with enthusiasm to reveal a gleaming metal box. She lifted the lid. "Ooooh! These are the latest design - I haven't even seen them - I mean I heard about them, of course - "

Ed was scratching the back of his neck, still looking at the floor. He peeked at her. "The guy at the shop said they're specially designed for automail, all the small sizes, and they're . . . uh . . . magnetized so you won't lose the little screws and stuff . . . "

Her mouth dropped. "Magnetized? I didn't even know they made them magnetized."

"Well, I did that. You'll be the only one with a magnetized set of . . . those."

"Ed! That's so thoughtful. They're perfect! I can't wait to use them!" She hugged him with her free arm, then backed away.

"I'm going to put these away. Do you want some tea?"

Ed let out a relieved breath. _Back on familiar ground_. "Yeah, thanks."

Winry found herself nearly dancing through the kitchen as she brewed the tea. Poking her head around the corner, she peered into the living room. Ed had already kicked off his boots and sprawled on the couch, absently stroking Den's head. It warmed her to see him there, looking like he was home. However, as she carried the tea out, a seed of suspicion began to grow. What if he was just buttering her up to tell her he was about to disappear again? He had come in acting all sweet and nervous. Ed was neither sweet nor nervous by nature, at least not on purpose. He was rude, obnoxious, and arrogant. None of these familiar traits had yet surfaced and he had already been in the house over 5 minutes. Winry narrowed her eyes as she sat next to him on the couch, handing him a mug of tea.

"Thanks. Weather's really crappy."

A tense silence descended. Winry watched him like a hawk. Ed began to squirm.

"So?" she asked sharply, blue gaze lancing through him.

He was baffled by the change in the atmosphere. Angry, happy, angry - what was going through her mercurial mind? "So what?"

"What's going on Ed," she asked, her voice dangerously low.

"What do you mean? Didn't you make all kinds of threats and tell me to come back? Can't I just hear and obey?" There was a rising note of panic in his voice. How was this already going so badly? How had he managed to screw it up?

"You never obey anybody and you certainly never listen to any of my threats, no matter how many times I bash your thick skull. You always want something. Usually you stroll in here and start giving orders like the Crown Prince of Xing, expecting me to jump on it. This is not like you," she said, wagging a finger in his face.

He glanced reflexively at her other hand. "You aren't hiding a wrench somewhere, are you?"

"I can get one pretty fast."

Edward started to sweat. "Uh . . . I just wanted to see you. I . . . um . . . missed you . . ."

"What in the hell are you up to?" she snapped. "This smacks of Alphonse. This is his style, not yours, and you can't pull it off! Where is he, anyway?"

Ed's temper finally rose to meet hers. He felt much more comfortable using the adrenaline that had been building all day to fight than to be "persuasive."

"I can't be nice to you once in a while? I'm such an asshole that anything nice I do has to be Al's idea? Thanks a lot! Why do you have to be so impossible?"

"I'm not impossible! I just know you! Are you really telling me that Al didn't put you up to this? That you don't want anything?"

"I told him it wouldn't work!" Ed exclaimed, expecting a new and sharper retort. Once again throwing him off-kilter, she sighed, flopping back into the couch. Winry put her hands to her face, squeezing her temples, willing herself not to loose the tears she felt welling up. She had wanted so badly for Edward to tell her, with conviction, that it was all his idea.

"So," she said tonelessly, "what happened in Central? Another mission to the end of the world and beyond?"

"No, actually," Ed snarled. "But, since you think I'm such an ass, as you put it, I might as well leave. I'll send Al to tell you everything tomorrow, since you seem to like him." Ed began a laborious attempt to put his muddy, sodden boots back on, grumbling. "Forget it. I don't know what I was thinking. This is never going to work."

Winry grabbed his arm, a surge of curiosity rousing her. "What's never going to work?"

"If it won't work, why should I bother?" he replied testily, shaking her off.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I was being impossible. It's just . . . I'm used to you the way you usually are." She fluttered her lashes at him. "Please tell me?"

"I don't know. I might breathe wrong and set you off again."

Winry bit back a nasty reply, forcing a dazzling smile. "I said I'm sorry. I do want to hear what you have to say."

Ed gave up on the boot he was struggling with, flinging it across the room. He sat back on the couch with his arms crossed, peering at her intently through his golden eyes. There was something other than mere frustration in his gaze and it made her stomach flutter.

"I'll tell you about Al first, since he's your favorite."

Winry rolled her eyes and settled into the couch next to him to listen. Ed described Al's interview and the house they'd been staying in for the past couple of days. She smiled to herself hearing the pride warming his voice.

"He'll be wonderful at that," she replied. "Does he feel better about the alchemy?"

Ed's face fell. "I think so, but he doesn't want to talk about it. He loves it as much as I do. He could still study, but I think that might make it worse. I'm hoping he'll think about it - I could use his help."

"So - still a state alchemist?"

"Yeah. Don't get so mopey about it. Listen," Edward started, launching into an exciting description of his researches. Winry was enthralled. The idea of flying machines filled her imagination. She began to mentally draw up blueprints. They broke into a lively argument about the containment of explosive chemicals as a propulsion system.

"How are you going to start all of this? It's not just books, Ed, and you're a mediocre mechanic at best."

He laced his fingers behind his head, rewarding her with his feral grin.

"The military gave me permission to set up a workshop wherever I want and hire anyone I need."

He was giving her an odd look. She was afraid he was going to "throw her a bone" and offer to let her be one of his army of grease monkeys, worshipping at his command. Interested as she might be in his ideas, the automail especially being close to her heart, but she couldn't bear to be some kind of servant to him. She tried to keep the creeping despair off her face as she wondered what closed-minded old geezer the military had selected to keep an eye on him.

"I know I need help on the engineering side - I've got too much to do to try to figure that out. It's not really my area. I've got to be the brains of the operation, you know?" This earned him the expected glare. "But the military seems to think I need a partner, an engineer, to make it happen. I need somebody smart, but still creative, someone tough enough to manage a big team and whip them into shape. I can't do everything myself."

She rolled her eyes again at his pompous diatribe. "So who did they give you," she asked, trying not to let her disappointment seep out.

"I told you they're letting me pick out all my associates. I can only think of one engineer I've ever met good enough to do it all." His golden eyes sparkled at her. "So, will you do it?"

Winry smiled hugely for a second, then faltered. If she said "yes," she would be with him all the time, but she still wasn't sure how he felt about her. She'd laid everything out on the table, and he came back offering her a job. The whole thing stank vaguely of pacification. She didn't think she could tolerate spending being so close to him and still wondering.

Ed blanched at the long silence. He had expected her to be surprised and excited, say "yes", then maybe jump into his arms. There was a tearing sensation in him. He didn't want to get stuck with some patriotic idiot in the Eastern province so far away from her.

"Winry," he asked anxiously.

There were tears standing in her eyes, but her chin was up high enough to tell him there was no way she was about to break down. "Before I answer you, I need to know something important."

He looked confused and apprehensive.

"You talked a lot about projects and research and work, but you haven't said anything about you and me. Last time I saw you, I told you that you had better come back here with all your issues worked out. I told you I wasn't going to wait around for you forever. I meant it."

"I know! I'm back and everything's all set up and I have a plan -"

Winry shook her head. "No. Everything is not set up. Before I go plunging into this big plan of yours, you have to answer this question completely truthfully." She took a deep breath, more than a little afraid of the answer. "Do you love me?"

She blinked, one fat tear falling before she could stop it. Ed puffed out his breath. An easy smile curved his lips.

"That's it? I thought that was obvious."

"Well?" she demanded, now seeping tears but unrelenting in her focus. Ed brought his hands up to her face and wiped her cheeks gently.

"Of course."

She hiccuped. "You're not just saying that to get me to work on your project?"

He laughed, shaking his head. "You're the whole reason for the project! How could I be with you if I was traveling all over the place, never letting you have a life or ambitions of your own? You'd never be happy sitting around waiting for me all the time. You told me how much you hate that. You have to be bossing me around about everything."

Winry, crying in earnest now, smacked his shoulder. "Why couldn't you just tell me?"

"Like I said, I thought it was obvious. Almost everyone who's ever met us both teased me about it. So, now that you have your information, will you do it?"

Winry wiped her eyes and pulled herself together. Beneath her dewy lashes, the blue pools of her eyes darkened and heated. Ed noticed the change. He found himself so suddenly warm, he wondered whether his damp clothes would begin to steam. With a predatory air, she tucked her legs beneath her, then straddled his thighs, sinking onto his lap. He felt paralyzed. She slid both arms behind his head and hovered, nose almost touching his.

"I think you'll need to convince me," she whispered.

Ed's breathing hitched. His hands were sliding up her sides. He leaned in to kiss her. She pulled back so that her lips were just barely out of his reach. He looked up at her, half-drowning and puzzled.

"I want to hear you say the words," she cooed against his mouth.

"Wha?" he slurred.

"You have to say it," she said, her breath warming his face. He was nearly incoherent with need.

"Say what?"

She merely gazed at him. He could see their past stretched out in those fathomless depths and the glimmer of their future. His mind cleared enough so that he could understand. Everything went crystal clear. The phrase he had never thought he could say without feeling ridiculous filled up his entire brain, spilling forth in an effortless soft phrase.

"Oh. I love you."

The corners of her eyes crinkled just before she closed them. Seconds after their lips met, they began to feed ravenously on one another. Articles of clothing began to fly around the room. Winry pulled his left hand away from her rib cage and held it in front of her, pulling off the glove and flinging it away from her.

Edward almost always wore gloves, mostly to conceal the nature of his artificial limbs from curious strangers. It made him feel like less of a freak. As a result, his hand was unusually sensitive to texture. The soft heat of her skin was incredibly intimate to him. She kissed him to distract him while she pulled the glove off his automail hand. Ed jerked back when he realized what she was doing.

"Uh . . . you might want to leave that one on . . ." There were dark periods in the world on the other side of the gate during which he despaired of ever returning to Amestris. There was a girl or two with whom he had tried half-heartedly to engage in this type of activity. They were, inevitably, disturbed by his artificial arm, much as they had tried to conceal it. Winry had never seemed to notice, but he dreaded seeing the same masked discomfort in her.

She frowned at him, holding the automail in her two hands. She slid the metal fingertips from her collarbone to her mouth, snuggling her cheek into the palm of his hand. "I know every single bolt of this by heart. I loved it when I made it, but it was just a part then. When you wear it, it's alive – a part of you."

The metal fingertips twitched as she brought them down to curve around her left breast, the nerve endings responding to subconscious signals from Edward's brain at the sight. She smiled softly.

"I love the way it feels, just as much as I like this one," she continued, picking up his left hand and kissing each fingertip lingeringly.

A shiver ran through Edward at the silky pressure of her lips. He pulled her roughly back to him, kissing her with all the ferocity in his heart, no hesitation left over. He paused only long enough to whisper, "Machine nerd."

She giggled, then responded, "Alchemy freak."

The rest of the clothing was discarded in a trail leading upstairs. Afterward, they lay side by side, sweaty and panting, in Winry's bed. Winry simply laid still for a few minutes, dazed, wondering if everyone felt that powerful flow of energy between them, the indefinable change. Her girlfriends had told her it was fun and exciting, but somehow she had never imagined this. She propped herself up on one elbow to look at Ed. His eyes were closed, but he was still catching his breath.

"Did you know it would be like that?" she asked quietly.

He grinned faintly and shook his head.

"Was it – did you – was there alchemy?"

His grin widened. One golden eye opened to regard her, full of mirth. "Are you kidding? If alchemy felt like that, alchemists would run amok. They'd be crazed, unreliable, always looking for the next transmutation, like junkies."

A guilty wash of relief went through her. The moon had finally managed to peek through the clouds. In its shadowy light, Winry marveled anew at the lean, hard length of him. Slowly, she traced the muscles of his chest and stomach with one hand, delighting at the sudden tension as her fingers grazed his lower belly. She caressed his leg with her own.

"I wonder if it's like that every time. Maybe we should try again, in the interest of science," she muttered, nuzzling her face into his neck.

The smile slipped from Ed's face. "Now? I'm barely even alive!" he protested.

She giggled, continued rubbing his thigh with hers, and moved her lips to his earlobe. "Maybe not right now, but definitely very soon," she countered.

A line of goose bumps raised themselves along his side when she started gently nibbling at his earlobe. Her leg was creeping higher, her hand lower. Edward felt a rush of energy. He rolled toward her and stroked her side, from her hip to the underside of her breast, which he cupped. She inhaled sharply.

"I thought you were barely alive," she purred.

"Science is a demanding mistress," he replied, capturing her lips with his.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Edgar Bergman had been, frankly, rather offended upon reading the missive from Roy Mustang that a 14-year-old boy was being sent to take on apprenticeship for the county governing position. No matter how famous the child was, it seemed ludicrous to attempt to train an over-indulged brat for a position like this. True, Maltha was a quiet county, but Bergman liked to believe the condition had much to do with his own level-headed, thoughtful efforts. The tales he had heard of the elder brother, the infamous Full Metal Alchemist, filled Bergman with foreboding. Edward Elric was rumored to be hot-headed and cocky, despite his brilliance and occasional compassionate outbursts. It was also rumored that the younger brother strove to emulate the elder.

Upon arrival at the stately Maltha Manse, Edward Elric had certainly lived up to expectations. He was barely polite, mostly brooding, evincing only boredom during Bergman's discourse. Edward constantly interrupted Bergman's introductory lectures to Alphonse with jokes, goads, and questions related to his own pursuits.

Alphonse, on the other hand, was a welcome surprise. Bergman found him to be a serious-minded, kindly young man intent on serving Maltha with devotion nearly equal to Bergman's own. He listened carefully, read deeply, and asked well-considered questions. In only a few days, Bergman began to see what had prompted Mustang's choice. The boy would be exceptional.

Bergman peeked into the library to check on his charge in the early afternoon, a week after Alphonse's arrival. Not for the first time that day, Bergman noted the boy staring off into space out the window, doodling absently. Normally, this behavior in a student would have irked the older man. Yet, he already found it difficult to be frustrated with this sincere young man. Bergman had gladly offered Edward his private car to head to the train station the evening before, after he had disrupted Alphonse all day with whispered plans. With a plaintive sigh, Bergman decided to give in. Whatever the brothers had been plotting, Alphonse was clearly consumed with worry. Bergman strode toward the boy and cleared his throat. Alphonse jumped, then blushed.

"Sorry, sir, I was just – "

Bergman chuckled. "Take the afternoon off, Alphonse. I know you've been wanting to pay a visit to Miss Rockbell. I've heard charming reports of her, and of course I knew her parents and grandmother. By all accounts a sweet, delightful young lady. I can't imagine what interest she could possibly have in your brother."

Al smiled to himself at Bergman's obvious distaste. Few people realized that Winry matched Ed very well in temper; she was just better at hiding it.

"Take the car. The driver will wait for you in Resembool until you're ready to return. Be refreshed and ready tomorrow. I have some pre-judicial matters to attend to. You would benefit from a close consideration of them."

Al leapt up. "Thanks! I will!"

Within minutes, he was in the car en route to Resembool.

Alphonse arrived to find Winry's house uncharacteristically quiet. No sounds floated forward from the workshop. All the shades were still drawn. For a second, he was worried they really had killed each other. He opened the door and poked his head in.

"Hello? Hello?"

Al walked into the kitchen. Den was sitting by his dish looking mournful. Alphonse fed the dog before heading into the living room, a deep frown growing on his face.

"Ed? Winry?"

He stopped short halfway into the room, blushing hotter than he ever had in his life. Clothes were scattered about, both Ed and Winry's. There was a distinct trail leading up the stairs – Ed's pants were slouched in the middle of the stairwell – ending at Winry's open door, from which a distinct scuffling and exchange of loud whispers was wafting. There was something pink and delicate hanging from the banister. Recognizing exactly what the object was, Al made ready to flee the house.

At just that moment, Edward sprang out of the bedroom door, wearing what appeared to be Winry's floral sheet, tied hastily around his waist. His hair was sticking up crazily and there were small red marks here and there on his chest and stomach. He slammed the door behind him and came down a few steps, unable to keep a dazzling smile off his face.

"Hey there, little brother!"

Alphonse was frozen in place, deep in embarrassment. "Uh . . . sorry to barge in . . . thought you were up . . . uh . . ."

Ed looked momentarily confused, then took in the scene and realized what was making Al so skittish. Grinning wickedly, he asked "Want to sit down? I'm sure Winry will be out pretty soon – "

"No, no, I'm just going to walk down to the river, need a little fresh air, been cooped up all day . . . I'll meet you there."

"Sure you don't want to wait? I think I can find my stuff pretty quickly – "

Alphonse was already heading toward the door. "Nope! See you in a little bit!"

Once outside in the cool afternoon breeze, Al's mortification began to fade. After a few minutes, laughter claimed him. They couldn't act like normal people, quiet and private, pretending nothing had happened the next day. No, if Edward was involved, it had to be flamboyant in the extreme.

Edward heard the door shut rapidly as he surveyed the wreckage of the living room and stairway. Only a complete idiot wouldn't be able to guess what had happened last night and well into the next day. He spotted Winry's very conspicuous confection of an undergarment hanging from the banister and picked it up, tucking it behind his back as he strolled back into her room. He had never guessed she would wear such delectable underwear.

Winry was already dressed and combing her long hair in front of her small vanity. At the sight of Edward garbed in her flowery sheet, cocky grin on his face, she broke into guffaws.

"What?" he asked, brows raised.

"You look ridiculous! You actually went out there like that?"

"What choice did I have? You stripped me down before we even got in here. At least it was only Al."

She stopped in mid-snort, picturing exactly what Al would have seen. Her head dropped dramatically into her hands. "Oh, God. This is so humiliating. What did he do? Is he still out there?" she asked, panic in her tone.

Ed grinned. "Nah. He pretty much ran out of here. I'm meeting him down at the river. Of course, that was after he spotted this hanging on the banister."

He pulled out the bra and dangled it from his metal fingertips. Winry's face went scarlet. "Aack!" She jumped up and snatched it out of Ed's hand, crumpling it up as small as possible in her fist. "And look at you," she snapped, poking at one of the more vivid love bites. "He must think I'm such a – "

"Al doesn't have a single mean thought in his head. You know that. He's a romantic." Ed looked down at his chest and rubbed one of the oval spots. "If he asks, I'll just tell him you were really hungry. Did you have to be so rough?"

She slapped his left arm. "Ouch!"

She crossed her arms and humphed at him. "You weren't complaining at the time."

He dragged her stiff form into his arms.

"That's true. I like you to abuse me. I wouldn't recognize you all tender and gentle."

This earned him another smack to the chest, but without much heat. She was already thawing in his embrace. "I can be tender and gentle." She turned her face up to his, kissing him with melting slowness, thinking about the vast love she had been building for him over so many years. "See?" she asked, gazing into his brilliant golden eyes.

He ran two fingers delicately up her spine, just looking at her, all intensity, before falling back into banter. "Nope. That's just another form of torture, since you know I have to go right now."

Winry leaned into him, heat already building in her again. "You don't have to go right now."

"That's true. Al will know why I'm keeping him waiting."

Winry pushed him away. "Ugh! Get going!"

"But Win – " he pleaded, reaching for her. She chucked the hairbrush at him. He dodged it easily. Ed laughed and managed to capture her hand, which he kissed softly between her third and fourth knuckles. "See? You're mean."

Her expression softened. She pulled her hand out of his and pecked him on the lips. "Go find your clothes and get out of here. Al's waiting.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Strolling down to the river in the dwindling afternoon, Ed couldn't remember a day feeling so fresh. He was used to living under a hanging gloom so heavy it threatened to crush him if he so much as slept. For the first time since his mother had taken ill, he felt as if everything was going to be all right. The sense of peace sat oddly with him.

In repose along the riverbank, hands behind his head and eyes closed, lay Alphonse, absorbing the melodious travel of water downstream. A small smirk enlivened his young, pleasant face. The sunlight and patchy grass alike appeared to love him, one illuminating, the other curving toward him. It occurred to Edward, looking down at him, that it had been worth every second of loneliness and doubt to see him this way, part of the world and belonging to it. Ed didn't think any other person would ever bring him so much joy simply by being alive.

Alphonse opened his eyes to find the brother who had been the hero of his childhood looking down at him. Edward had, over night, developed an aura of calm that Alphonse had never seen in his brother. All the worry that had been mounting in Al immediately evaporated.

"I give you a couple minutes head start and you fall asleep on me?"

Al replied lazily, "It was more than a couple of minutes. I'm surprised you made it out of there. From the state of the house, I wasn't sure you both got through that alive."

Ed plopped down next to his brother. He took on his usual arrogant mien. "What can I say? She can't get enough of me."

Al rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it was all her. I take it she said yes?"

"To what?"

"Your projects?"

"Oh, yeah. I think. I mean, I took it as a yes even though she didn't actually say – "

Al put up his hands. "Okay! I don't need to know! We'll assume she said yes."

"So, how's old Governor Snore? I see he let you out for the afternoon."

"He's not that bad. You just have a short attention span."

Ed waved a hand dismissively. "He's dusty and boring – goes on and on about farming laws like he wrote them or something. Hell, he's so old he probably did. Every time I see him, my eyelids start drooping. Oomph!"

Alphonse punched Edward in the gut and kept his fists up. His eyes glittered with affront. "He just cares about this work! He knows everything about this county."

Edward rubbed his stomach. "What are you so pissed off for?"

Al was in attack stance, bristling like a porcupine. "I like him and I need to know everything he knows and more if I'm going to do a good job. This is my life now. I hope, someday, when I'm a boring, dusty old geezer you can find a little respect for me in your fat head. Just because it's not alchemy doesn't mean it's not interesting or necessary! You only think about yourself!"

"Just because I don't want to listen to lectures every five minutes – "

"You should do it anyway, for me. I've done a lot of things I don't really want to do for you. Maybe I want to listen. Maybe I like having you around and I don't want everyone we meet to think you're a jerk. You don't have to act so selfish all the time!"

Al was red-faced with emotion. Edward expected another fist any second, one he had no intention of trying to dodge. Once again, he had completely lost sight of the fact that Alphonse needed his support. He'd never been very good at saying the right thing at the right time. Would it really be so hard to fake being polite to the old windbag if it would make Al happy?

"I'm sorry, Al. Winry always says I'm an idiot and she's right. I'll do better," he said, reaching out to ruffle Al's hair. "You know what my first thought was when Mustang gave you the job?"

"What?" Al snapped mistrustfully.

"That the pompous jerk was right. I would suck at that job. You'd be much better at it right now than I could be in 50 years."

Al's manner eased. "You really think so?"

Ed clapped him on the shoulder. "Of course! You'll be miles ahead of that moldy old fart in no time!"

Al snorted. "I guess he is a little cranky."

"A little cranky? He makes Mustang look like your fairy godmother!"

They laughed, picking up stones to skim over the river's smooth surface. The setting sun was highlighting the water in rose and gold.

"I want you and Winry to come over for dinner on Saturday. He's never met her, but he knew her parents and Aunty Pinako. Maybe she'll like him."

"Depends," Ed replied. "Does he include boring lectures about the mechanics of mills or something in his repertoire?"

Al sniggered. "Probably. Looks like you'll be the only one bored. I want you to be nice anyway."

Ed grimaced.

"Winry will be embarrassed if you don't."

"Fine, fine. You got it."

"You need to come back with me tonight to get your stuff. Bergman's so excited to get rid of you, he'll probably have your suitcase sitting out on the porch."

"Hah! I should stay there tonight just to bug him."

Al eyed Ed, donning his imp's grin. "I would think you'd rather spend the night with your girlfriend."

Al expected Ed to color and sputter at that remark. Instead, he lit up with a small, private smile. "Yeah, not worth it just to piss the old man off."

In the gloaming, insects were beginning the overtures to their night symphonies. Ed and Al turned away from the river to head back to the house. Edward realized he was ravenous. He hoped Winry had started something in the kitchen rather than in her workshop.

Not looking at Edward, Al asked, "What's it like brother?"

"What's what like?" Ed asked absently, his mind focusing on dinner.

Alphonse worked a small hole in the dirt with the toe of his shoe. "You know . . . being with a girl . . . "

Now Edward did blush.

"Does it feel like doing a transmutation?"

Ed looked at Alphonse, hearing the hopeful note in his voice. "No, not really."

Al sighed. Ed continued, trying to be philosophical about it. "There's definitely . . . um . . . an energy that builds up, kind of like when you're about to transmute, but it's much . . . bigger. And there's not so much thinking. You know, when you're going to transmute something, you hold the diagram in your mind, the elements to be changed – what they were, what they are, what they will be – the purpose, and the result. The alchemist is the instrument and the object is changed. But this energy – it's the instrument and you change."

"What's different? How are you changed? What's transmuted?"

Edward shook his head at Alphonse, shaking off his fierce curiosity. "I don't know. I don't know that anything is really transmuted. I just know something is different, something invisible." Giving Al another wicked grin, he added, "It's way better than alchemy."

Alphonse frowned, deep in thought. "I wonder if I'll ever fall in love."

Edward felt the stirrings of mischief. "Oh – but you did."

Al's head jerked up. "I did? When? With who? No one told me about that!"

"Did anyone tell you about Psiren?"

Al frowned, searching the lines of letters in his head. "Um . . . I thought she was just some thief . . . we were only in that city a few days, right?"

Ed cackled. "I can't believe you don't remember saintly Nurse Clara. You mooned over that woman for weeks."

Al looked offended. "Over a thief? That doesn't sound like me."

"You were convinced she had a good purpose."

Edward spun out the tale, paying special attention to describe Clara in lascivious detail. Alphonse went part starry-eyed and part appalled.

"I think she must have had some good in mind. You're too cynical. I would never fall in love with a bad person," Al reflected solemnly. Winry's house had come into view, spreading homey light over the dark field.

Ed rolled his eyes. "You only fell for it because she was pretty and good at your favorite act. No one's that sweet."

"I don't know, brother." Alphonse gave a thoughtful pause, then stopped and turned to Ed. "Now that I know so many specific details, I think I'll ask Winry for her opinion."

Ed started in alarm. "What exactly were you going to tell her?"

Wide innocent eyes gazed back at Ed, "I'll tell her the exact story you told me. I mean, she doesn't know any of the details of this one. I'm sure she'll have some really good insight."

The scent of danger twitched his nostrils. He forehead gave a warning throb in remembrance of the wrench. "Maybe you don't need to tell her the exact same story. You know, put your own spin on it, only repeat the important parts . . . "

Earnestly, Al answered "That wouldn't be fair. She wouldn't get the whole picture. I know shell want to know everything about a woman so pretty you remember everything about her years later."

Ed puffed himself into a threatening stance. "That story was just for you to hear - just between brothers. She doesn't need to know anything about that woman."

Al's face split with a grin. "But, brother, I'm sure she'll be interested in such a clever place for a tattoo."

"Do you want to see me with a concussion?" Edward growled, lunging for Alphonse.

Al dodged out of his grip and took off nimbly for the house. Edward chased him closely, screaming obscenities that probably scandalized every other living creature within earshot. Winry opened the door to investigate the ruckus. Al jetted in front of Edward, barreling for the doorway. Winry jumped aside. Distracted by her wry smile, Ed tripped and fell flat on his face. Winry sagged against the doorway, weeping with mirth. When Ed showed no signs of stirring from his ignoble sprawl, she went back inside, still chortling.

Edward rolled onto his back, contemplating the spectacular wash of the stars until his irritation faded. The only person who baited him better than Al was Winry, and only because Al had a kinder nature. Sighing manfully, he gave in to the rapturous scent of dinner, rising to meet his mocking girl.

To keep up appearances, he stomped into the kitchen where Winry was chatting amiably with Alphonse. Though slightly mollified by the heaping plate waiting for him next to her, he was still annoyed that neither of them bothered to acknowledge him after he sat down. Al's monologue began to falter in the face of Edward's various impatient noises. Winry pinched his thigh forcefully under the table.

"Ouch!"

"Brother, are you okay?"

Winry cast him a speaking glance, nodding her head subtly at Alphonse. It had taken her mere seconds to understand what Al felt the need to beat unto his brother. Al needed to be the center of attention for a little while. Feeling guilty, Ed managed a wan smile. "Sorry. Food was . . . uh . . . hot."

Al looked suspicious. Ed felt himself begin to flush.

"Just ignore him, Al. You were saying?" Winry interrupted smoothly.

Alphonse cast a seeking glance at Edward, who rapidly shoved food into his mouth. It didn't take long for his enthusiasm to become real. Coming to acceptance, Al continued chattering happily. Contents of his plate demolished, boredom was just starting to show on Ed's face when he felt the light touch of Winry's hand on his leg. Expecting more punishment, he flinched a little and sat up straighter. Instead, she gently rubbed his leg, soothing the spot she had pinched. She appeared, above the table, to be paying rapt attention to his brother, but her fingertips would spontaneously graze his inner thigh at completely unpredictable intervals, causing him to slip into extremely pleasant daydreams about what he would do with her later.

Alphonse finished his tale and his dinner. Edward was wearing a glazed over, goofy stare Al had never seen before. Al pondered it as he brewed tea. Winry cleared the table and brought over fresh dishes. As soon as she came within Ed's reach, he tugged her back down into her seat. Amid their silent, intense communication, neither noticed Alphonse setting the kettle and pie on the table. He could practically see the sparks igniting between them. It made him both happy and wistful. He cleared his throat loudly. Ed and Winry both started. Winry colored.

"Pie!" Ed cried in delight.

Sometime later, sated with food and conversation, Alphonse recognized the specter of sleep creeping near. He considered staying here for the night, but felt, for the first time in his life, that he didn't belong here. HIs childhood was well and truly gone from him. Home, now, was a rambling mansion that he would someday transform into a comfortable place. Judging from the disaster he had found the house in this afternoon, he had no doubt that Winry and his brother would be uncomfortably audible. He shuddered at the thought of the levels of awkwardness at the breakfast table after that.

"I better head back home," he said, rising.

Winry gave him a sweet, maternal look that made him ache. She had stood in a mother's stead for the past couple years for him, but it was more obvious than ever that she was too young and vibrant to play that role for him.

"How are you getting back? The train doesn't even run this late. You know you're welcome to stay . . . "

"No need. The driver's waiting for me in town."

"Just stay, Al. I hate the thought of you walking so late alone."

MIffed by her implication that he was little more than child, Al replied coolly. "Nothing's going to happen to me in Resembool. I've been in a lot more dangerous places by myself. Besides, Ed's coming with me."

Her attention snapped to Ed. "Why are you going? I thought, after last night, you were . . . um . . . staying here," she trailed off, blushing.

Al winced reflexively, expecting some callous rejoinder to come spouting out of his brother's mouth. To Al's wonder, Ed's expression softened. Edward moved smoothly over to stand inches from her, his hands sliding naturally onto her waist. "So, you're not kicking me out?"

Alphonse stood transfixed. Ever since their mother had passed away, Edward had fiercely guarded his personal space, disliking to be touched in general. Yet, all through the evening, he had barely stepped outside Winry's proximity. Now that Al reflected on it, he realized they hadn't even picked a single fight.

"Of course I expected you to stay with me," she hissed nervously, shooting a glance at Alphonse before being captured once more in his charisma.

"I'll be back in a couple hours. I want to make sure Al gets home okay and pick up my stuff. Old man Bergman can't wait to get rid of me, anyway. If I didn't come back, I'd probably end up sleeping in the flower bed."

Winry's expression warmed like the dawn. She fitted herself against him, draping her arms around his neck. "Hurry. I'll wait up for you," she whispered.

Edward felt the now familiar magnetic pull toward her lips.

"AHEM!" Al declared. "If you guys are done, I'd like to get home before dawn."

Winry flushed, pulling away. "Be careful."

Ed smirked. "Ha! I'm the Full Metal Alchemist, a trained soldier. Careful. Pshaw!"

Winry made a gagging motion. Ed gave her his trademark dismissive wave.

"I should be the one puking. Don't be such a girl!"

"Don't be such a jerk!"

"You like it!"

Ed managed to pull the door shut just as the wrench left her hand. It thudded heavily against the door. "Whew," he said to Al. "She's the only dangerous thing around here."

Al frowned. He had been too quick to hope their battles were in a state of truce. "You could be nicer to her," Al commented as they began to thread a path over the pools of moonlight.

"Psh - it would only piss her off more. I tried your nice crap when I first went in there and she asked me what the hell my problem was."

"How are you two going to be happy together if you're always fighting?"

Ed shrugged, unconcerned. "I'm sure we'll figure it out," he said with his usual overconfidence.

Edward was bathed in a deep calm in the plush backseat of Bergman's private car. Knowing that Alphonse was both safe and whole, and that a bright future tangled up with Winry was open before him, left Edward feeling almost light-headed. It was as if his former self, forged hard and fierce in a state of soul-sucking anxiety, had been lifted away, leaving someone blank, fresh, in his place. Ed had a sudden understanding of Alphonse's ready acceptance of his age.

Bergman wore a look of sour disapproval as Edward steered his half-sleeping brother toward bed. The old man was still in the hallway, arms crossed, when Edward exited his brother's room.

"I thought you would be staying with Miss Rockbell. I took the liberty of packing your things, assuming you would send for them." A suitcase was tidily stashed at the end of the hallway, near the stairs.

Ed sneered, "Don't mind if I borrow the car to head back, do you? No trains at this late hour."

Bergman gritted his teeth. "Certainly, you may use it." Bergman half-turned, then heard Edward's self-satisfied snort. Leave it to a cock-sure youth to make him forget decades of courtesy. "Of course, it is quite late. You are welcome to stay, if you must," he forced out in a mumble.

"In this heap? Nah. I'll head home. See ya, Bergman," Ed quipped, dipping to swipe his suitcase. He could hear the old bombast sputtering like a pot about to boil over as he left.

The driver left without a backward glance as soon as Ed was out of the car. The moon was beyond it's peak. Only the wind and cicadas stirred around Winry's house. Ed opened the door, expecting Winry to blast him for being so late, then pull him upstairs with open arms. There was no greeting for him. The sound of snoring drifted from the living room. Shaking his head, he locked up.

Winry was sitting on the couch, head lolled back, mouth partly open, sawing softly. Den lifted her head from Winry's lap less than an inch, regarding him with only one eye open, the picture of canine contentment. Ed felt a tiny twinge of disappointment. Vivid fantasies during the car ride had been all that could keep him awake. He carried her upstairs to bed and cradled her sleeping weight against him. The sense of satisfaction seeping into his bones carried him almost instantly to slumber.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

6 months passed swiftly. Alphonse began to take on an imperious air that Ed and Winry teased him mercilessly about. Bergman suffered them in his house, only because he took a shine to Winry, who smiled sweetly at him and discussed mechanics with great aptitude. He regarded Edward's half-hearted attempts at common courtesy with tolerance bordering on contempt.

Winry and Edward battled passionately over plans for the workshop, employees, budgets, and everything else. They chose to keep the operations base in Resembool, and had begun construction. Edward's wanderlust reemerged in a tempered form. He took many research trips, ranging from 2 or 3 days to 2 or 3 weeks, though he always felt a quiet relief in returning home. In the beginning, Winry often accompanied him, delighted to finally be escaping Resembool for the rest of the world.

Her enthusiasm soured sooner than she had expected. She was somewhat used to having her competence underestimated due to her age and gender, but customers in Resembool had usually been fairly quick to adjust perspective. Not so in places where the name "Rockbell" was little known. Everywhere they went, men scoffed at the idea of her as chief mechanic. The judgmental stares of innkeeper's wives regarding her lack of wedding ring weighed heavy on her every time she and Ed retired to a shared room. Not that Edward never experienced disregard, but the moment he touted his famous title or showed his silver pocket-watch, he instantly gained respect. When the strain of ignoring the constant snipes began to eat at her, she started making excuses to stay home.

Now she chose the trips carefully, accompanying Ed only when she felt the information she could gain was critical and beyond his scope. As exciting as it was to see new places, she grew tired of being constantly slighted. Somehow, even with all her doubts, the ardor between them hadn't yet cooled significantly, especially after Edward had been gone for a little while.

When Ed had reappeared in her life, her only thought had been that she needed to be with him at any cost. Now that the situation was less fraught with desperation, she was beginning to wonder whether the current state of affairs would ever progress. Throughout their childhood and adolescence, she had always figured that, someday, she and Ed would grow up and get married. There had been no talk of that, however, and she was too loath to disrupt his apparent happiness to bring it up. Also, she was concerned she would get another "that's obvious," which would cause her to go ballistic.

A few days before their first planned trip to provide Mustang with a progress report, Ed noticed Winry had begun to appear ill and run down. She was eating very little, sleeping late, going to bed early, and vanishing from her workshop several times during the day. Worry slowly grew to consuming proportions in Ed. The morning before they were slated to leave for Central, Winry told him she thought she should stay behind.

"Why? Mustang wants to hear from you too, probably more than he wants to hear from me. Besides, you haven't gone anywhere with me in over a month. Aren't you getting sick of being at home?"

She huffed. "I'm just not feeling up to it, okay? And I happen to like my house. You can tell him everything. We've barely gotten started."

"What's the matter? Are you sick or something?"

"Nothing!" she snapped, then stomped off to her workshop. Her watched her carefully. She was even listless about her beloved automail.

Later, watching her poke her dinner around her plate, he exploded, "What's wrong with you? Are you sick?"

She glared, mumbling a reply, "It's probably just a flu."

"It's been days."

"Are you spying on me?"

"I'm just worried about you."

"Butt out! I can worry about myself."

"I think you should go to the doctor."

That brought a spark to her eye. She slammed down her fork. "I'm fine, Ed."

"No, you're being weird. You look sick. You need to go."

She rolled her eyes and pushed her plate away. "Lay off! Who are you to tell me what I need to do? I'm fine. I don't need to go!"

"Yes you do! I'll call Mustang and tell him I'm not coming! I'll hog-tie you and drag you to the doctor if I have to!"

The both stood, facing off across the table.

"I'm a grown-up, Ed! Don't treat me like a baby!"

"Quit acting like one and go to the damn doctor!"

"Why won't you drop it already? I'm fine!"

"That's exactly what my mother said. She died!"

Winry's complexion went completely white. Her legs felt like jelly. His golden eyes were jewel-bright with hurt. The sight cut through her anger like a flaming arrow to the raw wound in her heart where the memory of her parents' death dwelt - the most devastating event of her life. She was still frozen inside that hideous memory of loss when Edward stalked up the stairs and slammed the door to the spare room he had turned into a library.

Edward flung aside books and notes, looking for a clean sheet of paper. He struggled to tamp down on his wild emotions. He wanted to hit someone. He couldn't stand to lose Winry. The terrible abyss he remembered from his mother's death threatened to swallow him whole. If something happened to Winry, all his dreams and plans would be nothing but ash.

He began drafting a furious letter to be delivered to Mustang in lieu of his presence. He didn't trust himself to place a phone call. Plus, the letter would buy him more time from retribution - at least enough time to figure out what the hell was going on with Winry. He was so intent, he didn't hear the door softly open. The slender hand on his shoulder made him start and blot the page.

"Dammit Winry! I'm trying to - " He looked into her melting blue eyes and lost the thread of his words.

"I'm sorry, Ed. I didn't think about that."

Anger still radiated from him. He turned back to his mess of a letter. "No, you didn't. So I'll stay and Mustang can go fuck himself until we figure this out. I think that's a good line. 'Go fuck yourself.' Should I underline 'fuck?'"

"Stop. You need to go. This is the beginning of our project. He hasn't even confirmed the funding. What if the Council pulls the plug because you weren't there?"

"I don't care. This is more important."

"I care. I promise I'll go tomorrow after you leave."

He cast a cold, accusatory glare at her. "I don't know. Can I trust you to actually go?"

"Don't start this bullshit! I said I would," she snapped, shifting effortlessly from soft to snarling. "You made your point, okay?"

Ed was silent for a moment. "Fine. But I'm sending Al with you."

Winry's eyes went from blue to blue-grey. She growled. "So now I need a babysitter?"

"I need to know that someone is going to take care of you if you're not okay. Al might seem soft, but he's even more stubborn than I am. He's the only person I trust with your life."

Her angry retort died on her lips. Of all the things she had imagined in a relationship with Ed, this intense protective streak surprised her. Ed was still stiff, glittering with offense. Love and exasperation wound themselves into a knot in her head. Winry slid into his lap, shoving his pen aside. He sat like a wooden doll, totally unresponsive, even as she laid her face into his neck. However, when she nipped his earlobe a little roughly, he relented utterly, sweeping her up in his intensity.

Not long afterward, Winry snored lightly. Edward crept out of the bedroom and downstairs to the phone, steeped in worry. It was late enough that the servant at the Governor's mansion answered moodily.

"Master Alphonse is abed Mister Elric." The "Mister Elric" part oozed distaste.

"So go wake him up," sniped Edward testily. "Tell him it's his brother." The servant sighed in response. Ed tapped his metal fingers on the table, making a little tune out of his impatience. Relief washed through him as soon as Al picked up the receiver.

"What's wrong, brother?'

"Nothing. Everything."

"Okay. Start at the beginning."

They talked long and quietly, well after Ed had disclosed his predicament. Edward drifted along paths of memory to nights in unfamiliar rooms, Al's voice piping through the armor in the darkness - the only thing keeping bloodcurdling nightmares at bay. He clung to the calm, intelligent sound of his brother's voice tonight in exactly the same way. The night was very deep when Edward finally ended the conversation. He curled himself around Winry, drinking in the comfort of her presence.

Edward left shortly after dawn, extracting whispered promises from a deeply drowsy Winry. She drifted almost instantly back into a deep sleep, absent of the occasional guilty pangs that troubled her when she slept in.

Edward usually sprang out of bed just after dawn, as fresh as Apollo hopping into the sun chariot. Winry had never been much of a morning person. His vivid alertness grated on her nerves in the early hours. Since she had been staying home during his research trips, she found herself reveling in quiet mornings alone. She loved to just lay in bed, dozing on and off for a couple hours before starting her day.

This morning's reverie was interrupted by polite knocking on her bedroom door. She pulled the sheet over her head, groaning. Edward had somehow made good on his threat to bring in Alphonse, the only person in the world who would barge right into her house, then be polite at the door to her room. The gentle tapping sounded again.

"Yes, Alphonse! I heard you! Can't a girl sleep in once in a while?" she shouted, more waspishly than intended to the door.

She heard his tread creeping back down the stairs. Oddly, his thoughtfulness irked her. Edward would have burst in and started shouting, or at the very least, stomped down the stairs, then banged some things around in the living room. He would have shown some signs of life. It was impossible to vent frustration on someone as considerate as Alphonse. She had been so looking forward to some time away from Ed's shifting moods. She was doubly annoyed to find she missed it. Everything seemed colorless without him.

Al was waiting patiently in the living room, absorbed in some obscure tome, as usual.

"So, you're here to be my warden?"

Al blushed. "No, I'm just here to keep you company."

Winry glared, sticking her hands on her hips. "I don't need you to come with me. I've been taking care of myself for a while now."

Winry was gearing up for a ripping argument. Al's expression just filled with compassion. Too late, she remembered that it was almost impossible to argue with Alphonse without coming off as a complete ass. He stood up and put an arm around her.

"You're not on your own. Ed's really worried and so am I. You're my family. I want to make sure you're all right."

Winry burst into noisy tears, clutching his surprisingly boyish frame. Sometimes it was hard to recall how much younger he was than he should be. She pulled away from him, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so upset."

Al hugged her and grinned. "I think I know why, but Ed's not exactly very good at being practical, especially when it comes to something he cares about. Let's go see the doctor and make it official."

Winry flopped onto the couch. "I'm scared to tell him, Al. I don't know what he'll say." She looked pleadingly at Al. "What if he doesn't want it?"

Tears began spilling over again. She put her face in her hands. Al sighed. At times like these, he resented being the only one among the three of them capable of acting like an adult. Al sat down next to her.

"You know Ed. When you tell him, he'll probably say something really stupid and insensitive because he'll be scared to death. It will probably take him a few days to pull his head out of his ass and think about you. Once he gets over worrying about himself, I think he'll be really happy. You just have to trust him."

"I just don't know."

Al finally vented his own irritation. "Well, you're both being totally stupid. You couldn't even keep your hands off each other in public, much less in private. Remember how Mr. Simms caught you guys in the coat closet at the winter ball? What did you expect?"

The corners of Winry's mouth lifted. In the rare moments that Al lost his temper, he looked exactly like Edward. She patted his knee, resolving to take on a more cheerful attitude.

"All right, Al. You're right. We're idiots. And that was one of the most humiliating moments of my entire life, by the way. Let's go."

Al followed her out the door, bewildered by her sudden shift of mood. She grinned at his dazed expression. "Just in case you got the wrong impression earlier, I'm glad you're here," she said, taking his arm as they walked into town.

Al chuckled. "I'll never figure you two out. Don't worry. It'll turn out okay. He loves you."

She sighed dramatically. "I know."

Edward called Winry early in the evening. Relief poured through him when he heard her voice crackling across the distance.

"Hello?"

"So, what's wrong?"

She blew out an exasperated breath into the receiver. "Nice to talk to you too. Nothing's wrong. I'm fine, just like I told you."

"Did you actually go?"

"Yes, Ed! I'm fine! Perfect health. Do you want a telegram from the damn doctor?"

"So why have you been so tired? You're barely eating. What about that?"

"I'm just in a funk. I'm okay."

"Why are you in a funk? What's the matter?" he asked, slightly frantic.

"We can talk about it when you get home.

"Why? Did I do something wrong? Is it my fault? Are you sick of me?"

Winry could hear the barely masked panic in his voice. Her tone softened. "I love you right now even more than I did yesterday. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why won't you tell me?"

"Because . . . it's just something I want to tell you in person. Please . . . just trust me?"

There was a long pause. "Fine. Just as long as you promise you're okay."

Winry smiled. "I promise. When are you coming home?"

"In a few days. I need to look into some things in the library Can it wait a few days?"

"Of course. I'll be here."

Less than 5 minutes later, Al answered the call he's been expecting all evening. "Hello, brother."

The was a shocked pause. "How did you know it was me?"

"I know how long the train takes, you needed to get a hotel room, call Winry, talk long enough to get pissed off, then my phone rings approximately as expected."

"Damn! Am I really that predictable?"

Al laughed. The sound took some of the weight from Ed's shoulders. If Al was this cheery, surely there was nothing to worry about.

"Only to me. Everyone else finds you very confusing."

Ed grunted. "So . . . um . . . how are you?"

Al laughed again. "Now you're trying to be polite? You must be the sick one. She's fine. She'll be ready to pick a fight with you as soon as you get back. I'll tell her to use the heavy wrench so you'll believe her."

"Then what's wrong with her? She told me she wouldn't talk to me until I got back. I know she tells you everything. You're her little gal pal."

There was a long silence. Ed piped in again. "Don't try to lie to me. You're a terrible liar. I always know when you're lying, even when I can't see your face."

There was another long pause. "Al? Hello?"

"It's for Winry to tell you, brother. I can't."

"Is it really bad?"

"No. It's good."

"Then why can't you just tell me?"

"Because she has to be the one to tell you this. I can tell you that you should really start thinking about your future together."

"What the hell does that mean? Is she leaving me or something?"

"Ed, everything is going to be just fine. Just . . . just think about what kind of future you want with her, okay?"

"Enough with the riddles!"

"Goodnight, brother. Be safe."

Edward was left staring incredulously at a buzzing receiver.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Even though it took his churning mind forever to surrender to sleep, Ed still woke up just after dawn. As much as he delighted in travel, he found he resented time away from Winry. He had become disappointed with how infrequently she would travel with him these days. Any time he was away and not absorbed in his work, he ached with loneliness. He had never thought he would miss her voice so much, even though they mostly just joked and fought. Early mornings in an empty bed were especially hard. She slept in total trusting abandon, all her fire banked for a short time when he could just look at her.

Ed trudged over to the military complex in a foul mood. He fumed outside Mustang's locked, empty office for over an hour. Hawkeye barely blinked when she arrived, ignoring Ed's stormy countenance and grumbling as she unlocked the office.

Cutting him off abruptly, she said, "It is rather early, Edward. Your appointment isn't for another 2 hours."

"Maybe I just want to get this over with. I have things to do, you know."

Riza raised a knowing eyebrow and gestured for him to sit down across from her at the highly lacquered conference table. "What's so pressing?"

Ed paced. Riza marveled that he always managed to seem so agitated. Somehow, she had assumed he would settle into an adult life with some sense of perspective.

"I have research to do, then I need to get back home. I don't have time to waste waiting for that lazy General to finally get into the office!"

"Are your projects already too much for you to handle?"

Ed scoffed, cutting his hand through the air.

"Ah. So it's Winry then," Riza said, trying hard not to smile.

"My God! What do you people do? Spy on me every minute?"

This time, one corner of Riza's mouth did turn up. "No, Ed. We all know you very well. If Alphonse is safe and happy and your enterprises are going well, it must be the girl. You never have been very good at keeping your temper. You probably would have strangled that Council member waltzing with her at your brother's winter ball if we hadn't restrained you."

"That guy was way over the line. I don't care who who is."

Riza stayed silent. He blew out a breath and flopped down in the chair across from her, putting his head in his hands.

"She's driving me crazy."

"Hmmm."

Ed pulled his head up to look at Hawkeye. She'd always been a good listener. "But not like I want to get away from her or anything. It's just - she's - do you know what I mean?"

Something both sad and resigned flitted across Riza's expression. She cocked an eyebrow ironically. "Yes. I know exactly."

The door burst open, shattering the companionable silence. Ed caught the flicker of emotion in Hawkeye before she leapt up to salute, stone-faced as always. Edward felt all his previous disdain settle back over him.

"Why, Full Metal, you're early. Come for a little girl talk?"

Ed snarled as he followed Mustang into the inner office. He slammed the inner door behind him before slumping into one of the chairs opposite Mustang's desk. A spark of temper flickered in Roy's usually controlled expression. Couldn't the damn brat grow up a little and appreciate all Roy had done for him?

"Take a little more care with my office, Full Metal. People might forget I'm your superior."

Edward responded with a sneer and a sloppy salute. "Yes, sir."

Inside the charged atmosphere of hostility, Edward launched into an informative if lackluster technical report, presenting Mustang with the necessary materials for the Council's approval. When he had finished, Mustang looked him over.

"And where is your lovely partner? Your grasp of the mechanical details at this point is rather mediocre. I was hoping to bring both of you into the Council presentation. The members who met her found her much more charming than they found you."

Ed bristled, answering coolly from in between clenched teeth, "She's not feeling well. She stayed home to go to the doctor."

Concern altered Mustang's arrogant visage. "Is everything all right?"

Taken off guard but still prickly, Ed replied, "She's fine, or so she tells me. Don't worry about the work. We'll stay on track."

"I'm concerned about Winry, Edward. Her health is more important than your schedule." A smirk lit Mustang's eyes. "Sounds like you've got trouble in paradise, Full Metal. Need some advice?" Mustang preened, leaning back in his chair. "I have experience with plenty of women."

Ed smiled back like a jackal. "When I want to know how to juggle half a dozen bimbos, I'll ask you. I need to know how to make one smart woman happy for more than 15 seconds. It's pretty obvious you don't know shit about that."

Roy found his hand snaking toward his glove before he reined in his anger. The two men glared at each other. Mustang finally stood to make a formal dismissal. "Keep me appraised of your progress, Full Metal. I'll let you know what the final word is on the initial funding. I expect to hear from your mechanic soon."

Ed saluted crisply, then strutted straight toward the hallway without a backward glance. Mustang's appraising gaze lingered on Hawkeye as she followed Edward into the hallway. He hated when that kid had the last word.

"Edward."

He turned back to answer, swallowing his exasperation. Hawkeye looked at him searchingly for a moment. In her piercing regard, he felt as if every one of his tiny uncertainties was exposed.

"I wanted to tell you - while you're in Central, there's someone who would really like to see you."

Ed's expression went bewildered. "Who?"

"She was delighted when she heard you had come back. She's been wanting to write you a letter, but wasn't sure how you'd feel about it. She asks about you often."

Ed drew an utter blank. What woman from his past would possibly want to talk to him and would know Riza Hawkeye?

Shaking her head a little, Riza finished, "Go visit Gracia Hughes while you're in town. She's missed you."

Edward stood frozen in the hallway, assaulted by a flood of memories as Hawkeye disappeared back into the office. Gracia claimed she hadn't blamed Ed for Hughes' death, even though his troubles were responsible for it. How would she look? Would she finally be angry with him? Lost in thought, he found his way out of the military complex to wander amid Central's many hidden parks and fountains. What would he say to her? What could she possibly have to say to him? Winry was too touchy for him to call for advice and he was still wroth with Alphonse for siding against him.

He stared moodily at dusty text in the library all afternoon until he finally gave up and went back to the hotel. His room was distressingly quiet. He considered calling Winry again, but was missing her too much to sound properly nonchalant on the phone. Staring at the dark ceiling, listening to the fan creak, Ed thought about Gracia, Elysia, and mostly about Maes Hughes, who had been a good friend - and sometimes a little like a father. He recited the periodic table of elements backward until he finally drifted into slumber.

Rather than properly buried in the library, the morning found him scuffling on a familiar doorstep, feeling every inch a 15-year-old boy all over again. He nearly left three times before plucking up the courage to clink the knocker. Even so, he was about to turn away when the door sprang open. Gracia looked exactly the same. Ed was paralyzed by the sheen of tears in her eyes and her familiar tremulous smile. Before anything idiotic could fall out of his mouth, she pulled him into a great, motherly hug.

"Oh, Edward! You've grown up so much! I'm so happy to see you."

Edward felt a suspicious prickling in his own eyes as he awkwardly patted her shoulder. He pulled away. "Hello, Mrs. Hughes."

"Mama, who is it?" piped a small voice from behind Gracia.

"This is Edward, sweetheart, Alphonse's big brother. Do you remember him?"

The curious little girl gazed up at him as Gracia pulled him into the hallway and shut the door. He was astonished to see how much she had grown. For him, time had stood still in Amestris.

"That's Edward?" Elysia asked, looking suspicious. "Hmph. I thought he would be taller," she quipped, turning to skip off into the house.

Ed fumed. "I'm. Not. Short," he grumbled through clenched teeth.

Gracia smiled to herself as she led him into the kitchen. "Alphonse has been telling her stories about you for years. She was expecting a knight in shining. . .umm. . . automail. I think she's a little sweet on him."

Edward blanched. "Stupid Al," he grumbled.

He crossed his arms as he plunked himself down at her immaculate kitchen table, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. Did Gracia also buy into Al's stories? Did she think he was some kind of hero instead of a fool who got lost? He needed her to know he was just a stupid kid who made terrible mistakes and paid for them. As Gracia set tea on the table, Edward took a long breath, bracing his hands on the table.

"Look, Mrs. Hughes, Al probably exaggerated a lot and - "

Gracia simply put her hand over his automail one, stopping him dead with a piercing look. It reminded him so much of the way his mother used to look at him when he was trying to talk himself out of trouble that all his air disintegrated. His throat went dry and he only wanted to tell her the truth - all of it.

"Edward, I know very well that you're Alphonse's hero, and he sees you through those eyes. He was telling stories to entertain a little girl and a widow. I still know how much you sacrificed for him, and why. You are a hero, Edward."

Edward dumped sugar in his tea, stirring vigorously to avoid her eyes. Fresh guilt poured through him when she said "widow." "You have to know that . . . that if I realized how deep it would go . . . how many people would be hurt . . . I never would have told him anything. I would have told him to keep his big nose in his own business," he paused in his stirring to turn a beseeching look at her. "It's all my fault."

To his everlasting shock, Gracia laughed long and loud. "Edward, you haven't changed a bit!" Eyes still gleaming, she leaned toward him. "Maes was never able to mind his own business. Why do you think he was in Investigations? That was especially true where you and your brother were concerned. He took a shine to you boys. I think you reminded him too much of his good friend Roy for him not to feel personally responsible for you."

Edward choked on his tea. He coughed himself to tears and answered, still sputtering, "Me? Like Mustang? I'm nothing like that pompous, egomaniacal, smirking-"

Gracia's laughter cut him off. Wiping the moisture from the corners of her eyes, she again laid a hand over his. "You are, whether you like it or not. You're brilliant, dedicated to justice, possessed of a charming arrogance, and forever ignoring the right girl."

"She's ignoring me!" he spouted indignantly before realizing what had come out of his mouth and turning beet red.

"So you're finally pursuing Winry Rockbell. Maes told me she was your destiny the first time he met her."

"We were 12!"

"Still, he thought it was obvious. I agreed once I met her."

Edward rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. "I don't even believe in destiny," he muttered. "Was there anyone besides me who didn't think that?"

Gracia smiled. "I think Winry had her doubts, now and again."

"Yeah, well, I think she's having more. She's been acting really weird . . . heh . . you probably don't want to hear about this." Edward sighed deeply. "May I am like Mustang, revolting as that sounds. Maybe she's just trying to figure out how to ditch me."

"Why don't you tell me, from the beginning. Start with this Gate business and go from there."

Edward's head snapped up. "How did you hear about that?"

"Alphonse came to visit me often, Edward, and Winry makes a very good pen pal. I want to know what happened to you. Maes would have expected to hear every last detail."

The mention of Maes untangled his tongue. Hesitantly at first, he found himself pouring out everything to Gracia. Only, for the first time, it was a tale of scientific mastery, grand events, and great adventures. It was a story of guilt, regret, loneliness, and longing; the story of someone lost, then found, and found again, terrified he might become lost for good. He ended with all the details of his tumult with Winry.

"So she said she loves me, and Al says it's something good, but how could it be good if they won't tell me?"

He heard a scoff from the hallway. Ed whipped his head around. Exasperated, Gracia intoned, "Elysia, what did I tell you about eavesdropping?"

Edward blushed.

"Come out here."

Elysia skulked into the kitchen, her posture submissive, eyes and mouth rebellious. "I just wanted to hear stories - like the ones Alphonse told me, but that was lame."

Edward sputtered.

"Elysia! That's not polite! Especially because that story wasn't meant for you. Now Edward won't want to tell you any adventure stories."

Elysia finally managed to look a little sorry. Edward glared daggers at her.

"It's just - if he loves her so much, why doesn't he just marry her? Then she won't be so mad at him."

The corner of Gracia's mouth turned up, but she managed a stern tone. "Thank you, Elysia. Now go to your room. All the way to your room."

Elysia stomped off, but not without a mischievous backward glance. Edward was frozen by revelation. If she wanted to get married, why didn't she just say so? To him it was just paper and a title, but it probably would be a big deal to Winry.

"I'm sorry, Edward. She's her father's daughter. Wasn't he telling you to marry that girl when you were 14?"

"Yeah. He was. How did he know?"

"Maes was a romantic, dear, but also a very perceptive man."

"So is that what all this is about? Is that why she's mad?"

Gracia pursed her lips before answering him thoughtfully. "I don't think that's all, but, speaking from a woman's perspective, it's probably crossed her mind. She's been waiting a long time for you, Edward. She's a bright, pretty girl, and there have been plenty of disappointed suitors."

"Who?" Ed snarled, slamming down his tea cup hard enough to slosh liquid over the side.

"Does it matter? She doesn't have a frivolous heart, and she's set it on you. You're very lucky. Do you truly love her?"

The electric feeling that charged him whenever Winry crossed his sight infused him. A thousand battles, jokes, games, and long looks flitted behind his eyes. "Yeah," he said quietly, rediscovering the fact with new depth.

"Then the answer is obvious. Stop worrying about yourself and start worrying about what you need to do for her to make her happy. Loving someone is caring less about your happiness than about hers. Would you do anything to make her happy, even if you didn't like it?"

"Of course. Always," he answered reflexively.

"Then you know what you need to do."

Edward smiled genuinely and leapt up from the table. He leaned over Gracia and hugged her. "Thanks, Mrs. Hughes. I'll come say goodbye before I leave Central."

Still grinning, he left the house with a determined stride. Gracia's eyes welled up as soon as the door shut. That parting smile reminded her why Winry was so deeply infatuated. She knew very well the magnetism of a brilliant, charming man. In all the following years, no one had yet come close to Maes Hughes. For the first time in many months, she wept for him all over again.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

At the nearest pay phone, Ed waited out the ringing impatiently.

"Hello?" Winry said, slightly out of breath.

His fingers tingled, imagining her all sweaty and dirty in her work clothes. "Hey."

"Ed? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah . . . um . . . I just called to say 'Hi.'"

"Oh. Hi . . . " Winry was floored. She kept quiet trying to contain her overly emotional reaction.

"So . . . Guess who I just saw?"

She sniffled a little too loudly. He really had called just to talk to her, no pretense necessary. "Who?"

He told her about his visit, asked her about home, and just chatted for a little while. He hung up feeling warmed. How could he not have married her yet? He should have asked her the second he saw her. After a special order at the jeweler, he was able to concentrate on his research with an unusual ferocity.

Winry hung up the phone and just sat staring at it. As unsure as she had felt when she found out about her pregnancy, she felt even more unsure now. Who was this Ed, who called 'just to say hi,' who fed her deepest longing as if he knew she missed him, who allowed her to feel like more than just a frustrated passenger in his life? Even though he pressed all her buttons, she never felt childish giving in to her most base nature because he always met her there. She complained about his need to constantly pick fights, but she didn't want it to stop. What did Gracia tell him? Why did he have to do something all sweet without screwing it up even a little? Panicking, she dialed Alphonse.

"This is Winry Rockbell. I need to speak with Alphonse."

"Master Alphonse is participating in a conference at the moment, Miss Rockbell. I will give him a -"

"Look," she sniped, "I don't care what he's doing. Just get him. Tell him it's Winry and it's important. I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

Simms heaved a tremendous sigh. He had lately discovered that the sweet Miss Rockbell was indeed perfectly suited to Master Alphonse's obnoxious brother.

"Certainly, Miss," he replied with an audible sneer.

Winry tapped her wrench against the table. There was a long wait. She was just about ready to slam the phone down and call back when Al finally picked up.

"Winry? Are you all right? What's wrong?"

"What took you so long?"

"It's a big house. What's the matter?"

"The matter is Edward."

Alphonse rolled his eyes, struggling for patience. Even with his kindly nature, he occasionally grew tired of playing mediator between Winry and Ed. Simms, as fond of Master Alphonse as was the entire staff, frowned to see the serious young man squeeze his eyes shut and rub his temples.

"What did he do now?"

"What did he do? He just called me. Do you know why?" Winry's voice was near hysterical.

Al bit back a sardonic reply, reminding himself that she was pregnant, and, therefore, easily upset. "Nope. Why?"

"Just. To. Say. Hi. His words - just to say hi. He was nice; he was sweet; he told me about his day; he told me he missed me."

There was a bewildered silence from Alphonse.

"Well? Al?"

"Um . . . I'm not sure I understand why that's bad. In fact, that sounds good to me. . . Maybe I'm missing - "

"Al!" she snapped. "He never calls without at least inventing a fake agenda so I might not know if he really misses me or not. He always ends it by picking a fight so he doesn't feel guilty about being gone. He never calls after the first time because we had a big stupid fight and he doesn't want to apologize. It's like someone else took over his body!" Winry was close to tears.

Alphonse was proud of his brother and completely unsure about how to respond to this bizarre reaction.

"Al? Hello?"

"Hi. Um . . . Winry, I know this might sound strange, but I think Ed might actually be trying to be better . . . to you."

"Why would he do that? That's not like him at all! Did you tell him? You promised you wouldn't!"

"No. I didn't tell him anything. I just told him he should be thinking about his future with you."

"Oh, no!"

"What?" asked Al, very alarmed.

"He's leaving me! Thanks a lot! That's why he's being so nice - he feels guilty. How could this happen?" Winry broke into noisy sobs.

"Winry, don't you think that's," he stopped, thinking better of accusing her of acting crazy. "Do you want me to call him?"

"No! Don't you dare! I don't want him to know I care this much. I thought he loved me!"

"Winry, I'm coming over. Just stay there."

"No, no, I just have to get over it," she replied, hiccuping. More sobs wrenched out of her.

"I'm coming over."

Alphonse spent the entire afternoon comforting Winry with countless tissues and cups of tea. He was deeply unnerved by the depth of her conviction. He stayed overnight and spent the next day pretending to study while quietly observing her. Her utter misery was obvious. She lashed out at her customers and welled up while tightening screws. While she was engaged in a very tricky piece of detail work on an automail hand, Alphonse called military headquarters to be patched into the main library. Edward was so absorbed in his notes, the attendant had to rap the table twice to get his attention.

"Huh? What?"

"Urgent phone call, sir."

Immediately afraid for Winry, he rushed after the attendant to the phone. "Hello?"

"Brother?" Alphonse whispered.

"Alphonse? What's wrong?"

"It's Winry."

Ed's brain iced over. His hand numbed and he almost dropped the phone. "What happened to her?" he hissed, certain that it would be ugly and that he would probably never be able to go back to Resembool.

"She blew your phone call way out of proportion and now she's convinced you're going to leave her."

The words made no sense to Edward. It was a jumble. "What?"

Al clenched his hand into a fist and battled not to raise his voice, afraid Winry would hear him. "Edward! Pay attention! She's depressed and pissed off and - well - nuts! You need to come home right now. I can't babysit a p- Anyway, she needs you not me."

"So she's okay?"

"No, but she's not dying. When are you coming back?"

Edward felt his legs might give out in the flood of relief that swept him.

"Brother? When?"

"Sorry, Al. I was just really freaked out there for a second. I'm scheduled to leave at the end of the week. What's her problem again? And why are you whispering?"

"Dammit, Edward, are you deaf?"

Ed was shocked. She must be in a rare mood to get Alphonse so agitated he would swear.

"Wow. Okay. Explain it to me again."

Alphonse glanced over his shoulder. He expected her to come down the hallway screeching like a banshee any minute. "You called, she didn't believe it because you're usually such a dick that she assumed you must be leaving her to be nice for once. Nothing I tell her makes her come to any kind of sense and she's driving me crazy."

Ed grinned to split his face. "Really? So not so sweet and kind? Not just needing a little TLC? She's hostile and irrational? Hmmm . . . "

Al ground his teeth. "Brother, I am worried about her - really, truly worried. Enough that I haven't left your house in 24 hours. When - are - you - coming - home?"

Much as he loved rubbing Al's sensitive outlook in his face, he recognized the seriousness of the situation. "I'll get on the train in an hour. I should be there by mid-day tomorrow."

"Thank you," Al said with relief. "Ooh. Gotta go. She's coming."

Al hung up quickly and sped back toward his books. Winry eyed him suspiciously. "Were you talking to someone?"

Al looked up, all innocence. "Huh? No, no, just memorizing. It helps to recite out loud - pneumonic device."

She nodded, still frowning, and went back to work. Al wiped his brow. Ed was right. He was a terrible liar.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Edward frowned to himself as he packed his bags. What had he done wrong? She'd sounded okay. He thought he'd done a good job thinking of her first. He grinned to himself. At last, Al had a chance to see that it wasn't always Ed' fault. He was a little miffed to be cutting his research short, but was also looking forward to going home to his girl and finally being one step ahead of her.

He stopped by the jewelry shop on the way to the train station. "But sir, it's not finished. I haven't polished it or sized it or finished setting the stones."

"Not a problem. Just give me the materials. I have to leave early."

The jeweler's heavy mustache trembled with affront. "I won't have my artistry mocked. What would you do with the materials? You can't give a woman a heap of metal and rock!"

Edward gave his feral smile. "That's my problem, not yours. Let me see one that's the same size this should be."

Face turning a little red, the jeweler thrust another ring at him. Ed looked at it carefully, memorizing the dimensions. He chucked it back at the man.

"Got it. Just hand over the stuff. I'm not going to pay you any less."

The man took the money with incredible distaste and shoved a wooden box with loose stones and an unfinished piece inside. He shook his head watching the young man strut around the corner. It had been rather an odd request anyway. He hadn't even worked out how he would manage to set the stones in that material. _Good riddance,_ he thought.

Ed hopped on the train feeling optimistic and clever. Finally, she would be the one caught off-guard. Of course, with Winry, he had to be careful. He had to come up with at least 3 alternate plans, and even then, she might surprise him. It was best to go with a basic idea with plenty of room for improvisation. He slept fitfully and was consumed with plotting all morning. One thing he could say for her - she was never boring.

Winry couldn't sleep again. Characteristically, Ed hadn't called again, but she couldn't decide what that might mean. She had bitten her nails to the quick and snapped at her customers and at poor Alphonse. What she hated the most was that she wanted nothing more than to snuggle into Ed's embrace, here in this bed, right now. She was embarrassed and angry at herself for getting so worked up. She should have known Ed couldn't be kept. Alphonse kept telling her she was being ridiculous, but she just couldn't believe it - not until she heard it from Ed, in person.

She went down to her workshop before dawn and ignored Alphonse when he asked about breakfast, pretending to be absorbed in her work. By late morning she was so tired that she was half-dreaming at her work bench. Winry trudged up the stairs, barking "nap" at Alphonse, who was parked nervously on the couch. His constant nerves were becoming unbearable. She was strongly considering kicking him out after dinner, but knew the guilt wouldn't let her. She wished Ed was around to pick a fight. _Damn him_.

She fell asleep as soon as her face hit the pillow, failing to so much as take off her boots. Alphonse heard Winry begin to snore almost immediately. He checked the clock. Thankfully. Ed would be kicking down the door fairly soon. Alphonse hoped the dragon would continue to slumber.

Edward alighted from the train and headed home with unusual trepidation. What would she do? Would she stop yelling at him long enough to let him say what he wanted? Would she believe him? He opened the door very nervous, expecting a wrench to come flying toward his head. Alphonse was standing in the hallway looking anxious.

"Welcome home, brother. She's sleeping. See you."

Ed chuckled as Al ran out the door. He tiptoed upstairs. Winry was face down on the bed, boots getting grease on the sheets. His heart flipped over. He pulled off her boots and wrangled her under the sheet. She frowned and snorted before rolling into a fetal position. His innards went all warm watching her sleep.

When Winry finally woke, the sun was emitting the burnt orange glow of late afternoon. She didn't remember removing her shoes, but somehow they were sitting neatly next to the bed and she was tucked under the covers. As she blinked away her dreams, she noticed a scrap of paper on the pillow right in front of her nose. She scrabbled upright, recognizing Ed's untidy scrawl.

"Didn't want to wake you. Meet me at the river. Love, Ed."

Her fingers tightened over the page, crumpling it as her eyes brushed over the endearment. He rarely said the word and hardly ever signed a note with more that a quixotic "-E." Suddenly her frenetic despair seemed misplaced. It hit her that he was home a full 3 days early. She noticed his rucksack in the corner.

Why not wake her? She'd been hoping to start out fighting so that it wouldn't hurt until later if he broke her heart. Why was he being so cursed considerate? She debated ignoring his note, but finally gave in to curiosity.

He was casually skipping stones and she had to clamp down hard on the impulse to run at him and bury her face in his shoulder. He was always very reluctant about exuberant greetings. She kicked a rock at him. Ed turned and smiled - a real, joyful smile that thawed her.

"Get your beauty rest?" he asked.

She glared. "Do I look beautiful?"

"Actually, you do. It must have worked," he answered casually, turning back to the water to skip another stone.

She felt off-kilter. She had been sarcastic. He was blushing a little, as he usually did when he paid her a compliment. They were as tense as they had been as teenagers; like strangers, both entering foreign territory. Ed cleared his throat.

"Do you remember when we were 7 and Al and I had a big fight about who was going to marry you when we grew up?" Ed was pushing dirt around with the toe of his boot.

She grinned at the memory. "Yep. Al won, but I said I would never marry a bully or a squirt. I was waiting for Prince Charming."

They both laughed. "I came here to pout and you found me at dinner time."

Winry smiled more broadly. "Al was so worried. He was crying about how you left forever, so I told him I would get you."

Ed inched closer to her. Her heart thudded. "You remember what happened?"

"You told me you would be a better husband than Alphonse because you were better at alchemy, so I should marry you even though he won."

"You stuck your little nose in the air and crossed your arms, the way you still do when you're feeling superior."

"I don't!" she said, chin raising up. She turned pink and fought the urge.

"You do," he replied softly, closing in like he was creeping up on a skittish woodland animal. His golden eyes were fixed on her now and she couldn't look away. "You said, 'You're supposed to ask me, dummy - on one knee - and then you're supposed to give me a diamond ring.'" he mimicked, using a squeaky voice that snatched a giggle from her.

"Ugh. I do remember this. You picked up some slimy old rock from the river and tried to tell me how, at the chemical level, it was all the same thing. I think I threw your stupid rock at you before I went home."

Ed chuckled, close enough now that he could touch her hand if he wanted. She ached for him to reach out to her. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a small wooden box. "I hope you don't throw this one at me."

Fighting to swallow past the big lump in her throat, Winry opened the box. She could immediately see he had transmuted it. The circle itself had an odd sheen - clearly not gold or silver. It was embedded all over with tiny diamond chips that were sunk far enough into the metal so that the surface was smooth as glass. When she looked beyond the box to ask what it was made from, Ed was down on one knee in the mud.

"Did I get it right this time?" he asked, looking at her as earnestly as the little boy he had been.

She dropped to her knees in front of him and crushed her lips to his. Only after they were both breathing unevenly did she wrap her arms around him to whisper in his ear, "Yes."

His glorious smile was enough to leave her glowing for days. The cicadas were buzzing by the time they headed home. Winry admired her ring in the dying light.

"What did you make it out of?"

Ed inflated with a cocky look. "It's an alloy designed to be resistant to scratching and high temperatures. I think we can use it for the rockets. I wanted you to be able to wear it while you're working. Gold is nice, but it's pretty flimsy."

She beamed at him. "It's perfect."

"So, what was it you were waiting to tell me, Win?"

She squeaked, stopping short. He frowned at her in the gloaming light.

"Well . . . um,"

"What? You really are okay, right?"

"Yeah . . . how soon were you thinking we should get married?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I didn't really think that far ahead. Why?"

"Would you be okay with it being pretty soon?"

He was starting to look anxious. "I guess so. Why?"

"I'm pregnant."

The cricket song was loud between them. His eyes widened. She tucked her ring behind her back, irrationally afraid he would take it back.

"Ed?"

"Woah."

"Are you mad?"

"What? No. It's just . . . Wow. That's amazing!"

He gathered her into a fierce hug, not letting her go until he felt the tension seep out of her. They continued toward the house, Edward thoughtful, Winry watching him. She started to feel antsy again. "Are you sure you're not mad?"

"No. I'm just thinking about something my dad said about equivalent exchange."

She groaned. "You're thinking about alchemy?"

Ed smiled. "Sort of. He said equivalent exchange didn't exist because of us."

"What do you mean?"

"He said nothing he had ever done was good enough to exchange for the gift of his children. At the time, I thought he was just trying to have some kind of profound last words before taking off again, but I get it now." He turned tenderly to her. "Thank you."


End file.
